Finish my Sentences
by sunday nights
Summary: An unwelcome and dangerous visitor returns to the UES full of schemes and scams. Only two people are devious enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can they overcome their differences to work together? CB. Set after 2.16
1. Mysteries

**Title:** Finish my Sentences

**Summary:** When an unwelcome visitor returns to the Upper East, she brings along her Louis Vuitton luggage full of devious scams and schemes. This time, she's not only aimed at Serena, but the whole lot of the Constance upperclassmen. Only two people are scandalous enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can these two work through their differences when they find out that said visitor is more dangerous than she seems? Chuck/Blair; various other pairings. Set after 2.16.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own any characters.

**Rating:** PG-13; possible to have one or two M-rated chapters.

**Author's Note:** I haven't been writing as frequently lately, and I do have pretty bad writer's block. I'm trying to work around it, though, because I shouldn't not write this story just because I kind of suck right now. I hope it'll get progressively better. Najet and Abby are fabulous, by the way (:

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

* * *

**I. Mysteries**

Blair Waldorf gritted her teeth as she climbed up the stairs to Constance-Billiard. She braced herself for the thick, mesmerizing voice that would whisper against her neck. She prepared herself for those squinty chocolate-colored eyes that would gaze at her hypnotically, reeling her in with an exhilarating stare. However, as she reached the end of the flight of stairs, there was no throaty murmur, no enthralling glances. Her eyes zeroed in on her target. Smoke in hand, Nate in tow, and scarf wrapped fluidly around his neck, Chuck Bass sat nonchalantly in the courtyard.

She spotted Serena and gracefully made her way over, making sure to take the path that led directly in front of Chuck. As she maneuvered around random students, her eyes flitted to Chuck's retreating figure. Where was he going? Why didn't he say anything? Hurriedly, Blair scurried over to Serena.

"Hey, Serena," Blair greeted, eyes still lingering on the spot Chuck had been sitting moments prior.

"Hey, B," Serena gave Blair a half-hearted wave. Noticing Blair's fleeting glare at the empty table, she continued to ask, "What's wrong?"

"Oh…uh, nothing," Blair stammered, returning her attention to Serena.

"We're going to Butter tonight, Blair," Hazel informed her, "You in?"

"Yeah, sure," Blair replied, "Anyways, we better go. I can't be late for class."

As Blair stepped away from the girls, she lost footing a little and stumbled. Grabbing the nearest person for balance, she looked up embarrassed, prepared to apologize.

_Chuck._

"Oh, uh…" Blair's eyes went wide and she seemed to forget how to speak.

Chuck placed Blair upright and brushed himself off.

"I'm sorry," Blair murmured.

"No problem," Chuck replied, shrugging a little. He turned and walked away without a second glance backwards.

**...**

Blair felt a little faint as she slipped into her next period class. What had that been? Chuck Bass being polite? She couldn't imagine anything worse. What next? Nate scoring a 2400 on his SATs? The sky falling? Anything was better than Polite Chuck. Mad Chuck, Annoying Chuck, Horny Chuck, Vulnerable Chuck. Blair could handle a number of those at once, but politeness? She felt so out of place.

She had hoped that her 'I'm done' and refusal of Chuck's apology would have been overlooked on Chuck's part. She had hoped they would go back to the usual flirty bantering. But, she knew that dream was too far-fetched. So much had happened, Chuck and Blair could never be the same. She knew before they'd even started anything that getting attached to him would be extremely hazardous. What she hadn't expected was to feel this funny thrumming of her heart whenever he walked by. Had she been wrong to call it off like that? Had he really been there to truly apologize?

**...**

Serena sprawled onto Blair's bed, waving a letter swiftly in front of her face.

"Blair, did you write this?" Serena asked, pointing to the delicate handwriting on the thick card.

"No," Blair shook her head, as she brushed out her brunette locks, "What does it say?"

"Read it…it's kind of creepy," Serena replied, motioning again at the perfectly penned letter.

Blair's eyes skimmed quickly over the words, trying to comprehend every detail.

_Serena―_

_Playing games was fun. But like all games, the fun has to end sometime._

_Since I'm so nice, I'll give you a warning. You (and your friends) had better watch your backs. The time for revenge is now and I never pass up a chance like that._

_Love,_

_Me_

"Who gave it to you?" Blair asked, puzzled.

"I don't know! It was just in my locker after class," Serena exclaimed, pulling out the envelope that the letter had come in.

A feeling of recognition resonated in Blair's mind, but she couldn't quite place her finger on the exact place she'd seen a letter like this before.

"I'll keep an eye out for you," Blair responded, flashing a quick smile at her best friend.

**...**

Blair's hair whipped at her, millions of painful lashes, as it blew in the cold winter air. She huddled deep into her jacket, trying to flag a taxi. Her lips felt chapped and her eyes began to tear up as the wind screamed ferociously, forcing her to step back into the school.

As she stumbled back through the heavy oak doors, she saw a shrouded figure at the end of the hallway placing a thin purple envelope into Serena's locker.

"Hey!" Blair called to the mysterious person, dressed head to toe in black.

The person turned around at the sound of Blair's voice and quickly scurried away. Blair's heart raced; this was the person! This was Serena's mystery letter writer.

"Hey!" Blair yelled again, hoping that the person would return.

Headmistress Queller's office door flew open and she stepped out silencing Blair with an evil glare, "Miss Waldorf, I'm in a meeting with a student. It is after school hours, you should be getting home."

Blair narrowed her eyes at Headmistress Queller, but pretended to comply, heading towards the exit of the school. As soon as the door shut again, she flew down the hallway to Serena's locker.

As she twisted the knob in her hand, she couldn't help feeling a little excited. Besides all the Chuck drama, the Upper East Side scandals had been a little too quiet for the past while. Maybe what Blair needed was a good dose of scandals and lies.

The door popped open with a click. Blair gasped at the little wrapped present inside of the locker. It was Serena's old watch that she had lost a couple of years ago. Accompanying the watch was a little purple note that read: _Time is ticking, Serena. I'd get you and your friends out of here before…well, who knows what could happen?_

As much as Blair loved secrets, she hated not being a part of them even more. She would get to the bottom of this, no matter what. Realizing the only way she could solve the mystery would be to consult with the one person she could no longer talk to, she pulled out her phone to find a new partner-in-crime.

Penelope, Hazel, Izabelle…_Too stupid. _Serena._ Too nice._ Nate. _Too oblivious._

She had no choice. It was either let this silly prank continue or work up the courage to ask Chuck Bass for help.

Headmistress Queller's door opened again with a clang, and Blair braced herself for another scolding. But when she saw the person that stepped out, shock overcame her and her phone clattered to the floor.

_Chuck Bass._

Taking deep breaths to soothe her racing heart, she said a quick prayer and scooped up her phone.

"Chuck," she greeted solemnly.

"Blair," he returned, without so much as a smile.

"So how are you?" Blair attempted with a shaky grin on her face.

"I'm fine. And late. So I have to go," Chuck replied brusquely, turning away from her yet again.

"Fine, you can leave. But can you at least tell me why you've been avoiding me like this?" Blair asked.

"We're done. Remember?" he pulled out a joint from his pocket and began to light up.

"I know. But this isn't about me. This is about Serena," Blair began to explain.

"What?" Chuck cocked an eyebrow, walking towards the exit.

"She's been receiving weird threats in her locker and I was wondering if you knew anything about it," Blair told him, motioning at the purple envelope in her hand.

"That's classy Blair. Whenever something goes wrong you have to blame me," he scoffed at her, not even looking at the letter.

"You know what? Fuck off, Chuck. I can do this myself. And you know what? When you're drinking booze and fucking women tonight, I hope you remember that you're still an asshole," Blair shot back, stalking away.

As the door began to shut behind her, she pushed it open a little and called, "Oh, by the way, I hope you get AIDS!"

**...**

"You got another one," Blair informed Serena as the two sat down for dinner at Butter.

"Another letter? That's the third one, then," Serena groaned.

"What? You got another one besides the one you showed me?" Blair asked.

"Yeah, here," Serena replied, pulling the paper out of her handbag.

_Serena―_

_You're not scared of me, are you? You were never very bright. _

_Don't worry, by the time I'm done with you…well, let's just say no one care's how smart you are when you're no longer breathing._

_Love,_

_Me_

Blair's eyes widened in shock.

"Serena, you can't keep ignoring these! These are seriously scary," Blair exclaimed.

Serena rolled her eyes and laughed, "It's probably just a freshman joke… calm down."

"Only you would see a death threat and laugh."

"Because I know they're kidding! It's Constance-Billiard not Virginia Tech," Serena laughed again, shoving the paper back into her purse.

Their friends began filing into the room. Blair maintained constant chatter with her friends, but the letters that Serena was receiving still haunted Blair a little. Somehow, this didn't seem like a joke to her. It felt extremely real and she knew if she didn't do something soon, she'd regret it.

As the girls finished eating, Blair asked the waiter for the bill. The waiter brought it back promptly, and mentioned that someone had left something inside of the leather checkbook. Blair looked at him quizzically, but opened it anyway. Her heart stopped as she read the clearly distinguishable scrawl:

_Serena―_

_Bad move. You've got Blair in this now…and to say you're taking her down with you would be an understatement. Maybe next time you'll know to keep your nosy little friends out of our business._

_As always, _

_Me._

tbc.


	2. Twists

**Title:** Finish my Sentences

**Summary:** When an unwelcome visitor returns to the Upper East, she brings along her Louis Vuitton luggage full of devious scams and schemes. This time, she's not only aimed at Serena, but the whole lot of the Constance upperclassmen. Only two people are scandalous enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can these two work through their differences when they find out that said visitor is more dangerous than she seems? Chuck/Blair; various other pairings. Set after 2.16.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own any characters.

**Rating:** PG-13; possible to have one or two M-rated chapters.

**Author's Note:** Chapter two is here. I have been trying to write really hard, but in general, this story is going to be less feelings and emotioned based and more action based. If that makes any sense. Anyhow, I got wonderful reviews last chapter, and they really made my day. It's a little sad how excited I get when I see that I got reviews. Oh yeah! I got 17 story alerts so thank you to everyone who alerted! Najet and Abby still kick ass.

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

* * *

**II. Twists**

Blair's eyes flashed with uncertainty. The culprit was here. In Butter. Watching them eat. Should she tell Serena? Before her brain could tell her otherwise, she pulled Serena over.

"Serena…you got another note," Blair stammered. Why was she so nervous? She was Blair Waldorf, for God's sake. She was Queen B. Somehow, though, Blair could sense that this wasn't a prank that had gone too far. This was the real thing.

"Oh, god. Are those kids stalking us at Butter now? That's just desperate," Serena said, scanning the note.

"Serena…I really don't think it's a joke," Blair shivered, a little from the air conditioning in the restaurant, but more from fear.

"Oh, please, Blair. You really think someone's out to kill us?" Serena giggled, "You know what? It's probably Chuck being an asshole as always."

And then it hit her. Notes. Presents. Chuck. It all made sense now. Blair stumbled outside, letting the cool air flood her flushed face. Even knowing the answer didn't make her feel any better. In fact, she was sure that it was way more dangerous than even she had expected.

**…**

Who should she tell?

Blair pondered diligently as she threw her phone from hand to hand. This wasn't a Gossip Girl secret, this was a real _people could get hurt_ kind of secret. Pacing her room, she picked at her nails. Blair was supposed to be the confident, in charge type of girl. This secret was eating her alive. Finally, she rephrased the question in her head: Who should she tell that would ensure the problem be rid of as soon as possible, and promised to place as few people as possible in danger?

But, she got dizzy just thinking about the question itself and soon fell asleep on her fluffy duvet, nails picked raw, phone clutched tightly in her hand, and a deadly secret crawling through her veins trying to escape.

**…**

School the next day was torture. Everywhere she turned, daunting eyes stared at her, tempting her to release the secret. She couldn't tell Serena; she would do something stupid that would land them both in more trouble than they needed to be. She couldn't tell Nate. He, too, would do something stupid. Probably more physical than Serena's plan, but nevertheless, just as unintelligent. She could tell…

She shook her head; he was dead to her. He was dead to her. Chuck Bass was as dead as his father was dead. However, she couldn't shake it out of her mind that he was her best bet on an actual revenge plan.

Smiling to her herself, she made a resolution. She would get to the bottom of this no matter what. She would get proof that she was right, even if it cost her the world. And she was going to do it solo.

**…**

Chuck rubbed at his throbbing temples from the alcohol he had drank the night prior. Maybe he had gone a little overboard. But what other solution did he have to fight against Blair's pleading voice on a reel? The scotch, however, had not made the voices subside, but increased their volume, until he had fell over onto the bed, moaning in pain.

He was determined to forget about her. Smoking a little hash, snorting a little cocaine, drinking hazardous amounts of alcohol. He had all different methods for coping. The only problem was that none of them worked.

Her words still confused him. It had to do with Serena? The problem had to do with Serena? What did that mean?

"Hey, man," Nate pounded him on the back, jolting him out of his thoughts.

"Hey…Nathaniel," Chuck grimaced, removing his shoulder from under Nate's broad grip.

"Dude, you were so wasted last night. It was fucking hilarious," Nathaniel laughed, hitching his backpack up.

"What? I never get wasted. I have invincible alcohol tolerance," Chuck retorted.

"Okay, whatever. You ripped off your shirt and told us you were Shakira. Then you did a Hips Don't Lie routine. And dude, your hips do _not_ lie," Nathaniel replied, shaking with laughter.

"Fuck no. What the hell are you talking about?" Chuck groaned. Somehow, the image was starting to form in his memory, and it did seem slightly probable that said events had really occurred.

"You weren't even like your usual drunk. It was a level I've never even seen on you before," Nathaniel gasped for breath in between spurts of laughter.

Chuck shoved him, "Whatever."

He hadn't regretted it at all. For those twenty-three minutes, which he now remembered clearly, he hadn't once thought of Blair Waldorf. If only he could say the same for himself now.

**…**

He had to see her every day, fifth period, economics class.

Mr. Bentorki was bent over her desk, pressing his fat sausage fingers against her back. He fought back a punch; Mr. Bentorki was a middle-aged balding man who most likely still lived with his mother. The least Chuck could do for the poor guy was let him cop a feel off Blair.

He rested his head on the desk, feeling miserable for himself. He was jealous of his forty-five year old teacher. He was sick.

On his way out of class, he slowed down in front of Blair's desk and caught her talking on the phone with Serena.

"…yeah, so I'm going to leave a camera in your locker today, maybe we'll catch him," Blair whispered into the phone, pulling a little video recorder out of her coat pocket.

He heard some annoyed mutterings on the other side of the line and he could feel Serena rolling her eyes through the phone.

"Serena! This is serious. If it's really not a joke, someone could get hurt. Stop laughing it off. When you're dead, I'm not going to even wonder why," Blair screamed back quietly into the phone, clearly frustrated.

It hit him. There was a way for him to not only respect her wishes by staying away from her, but to help her and Serena out. He would wait for the culprit of whatever prank this unknown person was pulling. He would wait until he had his answer. And Blair would finally forgive him. He laughed a short, harsh laugh. Well, he could dream anyway.

**…**

Blair's eyes twinkled with pride. She had a plan. All by herself, she had come up with a brilliant, foolproof plan. Chuck Bass her ass. She didn't need him. She didn't need anyone. When it came to scandal, Blair Waldorf flew solo.

She planted the small camera into one of the hooks on Serena's locker. Testing it once or twice, she was satisfied. She'd be back tomorrow to collect and when she had her proof, everyone would know that Blair was a hero. Not that they didn't already know.

She quietly shut the locker and tiptoed away. But something felt weird, as if someone was watching her every move. As if someone were following her. She tried to shake the feeling off, but it too, was following her like a thick cloud of perfume.

The deserted hallway look eerie. The lights had been dimmed to conserve energy, and the only sound was the faint sloshing of the janitor's mop buckets. Blair whipped her head around one more time, just to check no one was behind her. When she saw no one was there, she took of sprinting.

**…**

Chuck stood in the narrow cove in the hallway, watching Blair run away. His eyes darted to Serena's locker as he kept a close watch. He would find the culprit.

He slid onto the floor, resting his head against the wall. He could wait all night if he had to.

About an hour later, Chuck was jolted awake at the noise of someone fumbling with the dials on Serena's locker. He pressed himself carefully against the wall to avoid being seen, and peeked just the tip of his head out to catch a glimpse of what was going on. Someone was turning the dials of Serena's locker. The person was dressed in all black and had a small plastic bag in his hand. Chuck's eyes zeroed in on the bag. It was definitely some kind of drug.

Suddenly, as if his life had been put on rewind, images of presents, drugs, culprits, and accusations rushed through his mind. He knew who it had to be. There was only one person.

He was in such a shock that he couldn't bring himself to tell the person to freeze where they were. Instead he watched as the cloaked person placed the bag into the locker along with a note. The mystery person went on to rip the tiny camera out of it's socket and throw it at the wall. It was then that Chuck felt himself regain confidence.

Stepping out from his hiding place, he yelled at the figure, "Stop where you are!"

The person's head whipped around and let out a gasp. Then they took off down the hallway, tearing away from the scene.

Chuck hated running. It made him sweat, and was a hassle with his ever-so-precious scarves. But, that wasn't to say that he couldn't, and because it was a case of extreme emergency, he ran. He chased the mysterious figure down the end of the street, down a small alley, until finally he had them cornered.

Chuck caught tufts of hair peeking out of the person's ski mask. Dark brown hair. He was right, he could feel it. The person tried to escape by climbing up a trash bin, but was unsuccessful. Chuck barked out a laugh.

"You think you can get away?" Chuck shot at the figure trying desperately to cling onto the metal handles of the trash can.

When the person didn't answer, Chuck laughed again, stepping closer.

"Give up, Georgina," Chuck cried out, pulling the ski mask off of the mystery person's face.

His eyes widened with surprise as he caught a good look at the culprit.

His mouth dropped open a little before he managed to stutter, "Carter Baizen?"

tbc


	3. Dangers

**Title:** Finish my Sentences

**Summary:** When an unwelcome visitor returns to the Upper East, she brings along her Louis Vuitton luggage full of devious scams and schemes. This time, she's not only aimed at Serena, but the whole lot of the Constance upperclassmen. Only two people are scandalous enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can these two work through their differences when they find out that said visitor is more dangerous than she seems? Chuck/Blair; various other pairings. Set after 2.16.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own any characters.

**Rating:** PG-13; possible to have one or two M-rated chapters.

**Author's Note:** Chapter three, children (: Okay, so I'm actually sort of proud of this one. I just whipped it out…I don't know how. But it's long, for me, anyways. I worked pretty damn hard. And I am guaranteed to fail my math test! Great. Anyways, reviews are love, as always. You all are amazing.

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

* * *

**III. Dangers**

As soon as Chuck had gotten a good, long look at Carter, he noticed Carter was inching away from him trying to escape. Chuck pushed him against the wall, gripping his wrists tightly so no blood could reach his hands.

"I'll fucking kill you, Chuck Bass," Carter growled into Chuck's right ear. A frightening chill ran up Chuck's spine, but he shook it off. He was a man. His father would be proud of him.

"What the hell are you doing here, Carter?" Chuck hissed at him, forcing the harsh grip from his wrists to his throat.

"The question should be, what the hell are you following me for?" Carter managed to choke out despite the violent hold Chuck had on his neck.

"The real question is, why are you fucking with Blair―" he said, knocking Carter's head on the brick wall, "―and Serena." He added Serena's name as an afterthought.

"That's none of your business. You keep your pretty little head out of my business and no one gets hurt," Carter replied, swiftly kneeing Chuck's groin. Laughing, Carter continued, "Actually, I'm pretty sure someone will get hurt."

As Chuck fell to the ground in pain, Carter brushed his sleeves off.

"Nice try, Bass. But you're going to have to work a little harder than that to beat me," Carter scoffed as he walked away from Chuck writhing in pain on the ground.

**…**

Blair surveyed the scene in disbelief. How could someone have known that the camera was there? She shivered; was it possible the person she had felt there yesterday was someone watching her, keeping track of her every move?

Her hard work, lay shattered on the ground in millions of pieces, and she not only had no proof, but she had no camera, no hope, and no one to turn to for help.

She couldn't take it anymore. This wasn't about her anymore, this was for the sake of everyone. She pulled out a little bag of crack that had been left in Serena's locker and read the little note attached: _I'd enjoy this present if I were you. It'll be the happiest you'll ever feel ever again._

Time to call in the reinforcement.

She pulled her phone out of her coat pocket and quickly scanned the electronic screen until her eyes landed on the one she knew was her last hope.

The dial tone seemed to ring forever until… "Chuck Bass."

"Um, hi," Blair began, mentally kicking herself for the nervousness she knew was in her quivering voice.

"Blair, I think we need to talk," Chuck stated bluntly, and Blair's heart raced a little. Was he suggesting something?

"About the whole Serena mystery note thing," he clarified for her, sensing her hesitance on the other end of the line.

"Oh, yeah, of course. Wait, I thought you didn't want to help," Blair asked, partly relieved, partly confused.

"No, I think I know a little more than you do," Chuck told her quietly, "Anyway, we should meet. I think you were right about people being in trouble. I also know who's been leaving stuff for Serena."

"What? Where? Who?" Blair asked eagerly, but suspiciously. Was he just kidding? She had to find out, "Where should we meet?"

"How about in an hour. Coffee on 5th?" Chuck suggested.

Blair nodded her head in approval before answering, "I'll see you there."

**…**

Chuck sat in the small booth tapping a mixing straw against his coffee. Blair walked in moments later, and Chuck looked up to greet her. No smile. She was all business.

She slid into the booth silently and flagged the waiter. After placing her order, she turned to Chuck.

"Okay, Bass. What do you know? Talk," Blair forced out.

"Before I start, I'm just letting you know this changes nothing. I'm never going to want to commit and you're never going to be satisfied with me. So all we're going to be is partners-in-crime, it can never go further. Are we clear?" Chuck stated.

"Yeah, whatever. You and I are old news," Blair waved the topic away.

"Well, I know who's been leaving mystery letters to Serena," Chuck began.

"Who?" Blair asked, scooting forward in her seat.

"Carter Baizen. He cornered me in an alley after I chased him down and well, let's just say I'm pretty sure he has bigger plans than conning Nathaniel out of money," Chuck explained in a whisper.

"Carter Baizen?" Blair repeated in shock, "I thought it was Georgina!"

"So did I, but it was Carter. I'm getting my PI to do a background check on him now. Find out where he's been for the past couple of months," Chuck replied.

"So…what do we do?" Blair asked, hoping to get a well thought out plan.

But, Chuck had come up empty handed as well.

"We don't even know what he's up to. We don't know what kind of danger we could be getting ourselves into," Chuck replied.

"Are you saying we just sit and wait until he strikes again?" Blair cocked an eyebrow at him.

"My thoughts exactly," Chuck answered with a slight half-smirk.

**…**

Blair lay splayed out on her bed, reading Vogue, when Serena barged in, panting.

"Blair, I think you're right, I don't think this is a joke," Serena gasped, rooting through her bag to pull something out.

"Calm down, tell me what's wrong?" Blair replied soothingly, rushing to her side.

"I…was…walking home…from school," Serena started, "when all of the sudden, I heard a scream from an alleyway nearby."

Blair sat up straighter, she, too, was frightened now.

"And so I sort of walked over there, to see what was going on," Serena huffed, "When I got there, it was empty."

Blair's eyes widened a little.

"Except for a pool of blood. It was fresh blood, too. But, there was really no one there," Serena told her, "And then I saw it. There was a little purple piece of paper taped on the wall near the blood. So I picked it up because it looked a lot like all the other ones I had got before."

"Where is it?" Blair demanded, already digging through Serena's purse for the letter.

"It's right here," Serena pulled out, "And now I'm really scared."

Blair's eyes ran over it quickly and she let out a shudder.

_Serena―_

_This could be you. You're lucky that it was just an unfortunate passerby, but next time I wouldn't be so sure._

_I'd stay out of trouble. And tell your friends to leave Carter alone. _

_He's just helping me out._

_Love,_

_Me_

**…**

Blair took the note straight to Chuck's apartment.

He answered the door clad in a silk robe, hair flying in different directions.

"Blair," he greeted in a leering manner, before rubbing his eyes and realizing his pact, "Sorry, I mean, what are you here for?"

"You have to see this, Chuck," Blair said, not bothering for an invitation into the room.

"Yeah, sure, come in," Chuck groaned sarcastically, spinning around and shutting the door behind them.

They settled onto his bed and he couldn't help but think what they could do if…No. No, they were just business partners. Nothing more. He ran to the bathroom and splashed water on his face. Blair was nothing but an accomplice.

"So what brings you to my apartment at one in the morning?" Chuck asked, dropping himself next to her.

"This does," Blair replied, pulling out the purple note.

"What's this?" Chuck questioned after skimming the letter.

"Serena was walking home from school today when she heard some screaming down an alleyway; she went over to check it out and found a pool of blood on the ground. Then she found this note taped on the wall nearby. I'm scared, Chuck. What does this mean?"

Chuck's mouth dropped open. He wasn't equipped for this. He had an PI for reputation scandals. He had no idea what to do now that he knew there might be lives involved. He also knew that he always let people down. His father, Blair, the van der Woodsens. Whatever happened, he would blame himself for.

"We're going to have to…reorganize our strategy," Chuck mumbled incoherently. His mind was reeling. He needed alcohol. Badly.

"Chuck. What if something…happens to Serena?" Blair asked in a small voice. And for an instant, she wasn't Blair Waldorf, invincible Queen B. She was just Blair Waldorf, scared to death for her best friend's life.

"I promise," Chuck moved in closer, "I won't let anything happen to you or Serena."

He was so close to her lips he could feel her breath on his face. Her cool, minty breath inhaling and exhaling against him. His breath hitched a little.

Blair extracted herself from the bed.

"Thanks, Chuck. We'll talk tomorrow?" she asked, springing away from the bed, and practically dashing out of the room.

**…**

Blair stood outside of his room, trying to catch her breath. He still did that to her; he still made her feel like her face was on fire, he still made her heart race. Why? She could only imagine. This was Chuck Bass. He was the biggest bastard known to mankind. Why was she panting outside his doorway when she should be walking out of here like she owned the place?

He said he would protect her and she believed him. But how many times had he let her down before? He wasn't always true to her word and she wasn't sure if she could trust him now.

She needed a drink. Badly.

**…**

Chuck walked into the bar, settling into his favorite seat. His mouth still felt dry from his close encounter with Blair. Not only that, but he had the whole situation to worry about now. This was no longer a fun little game. Lives were in danger.

"Scotch on the rocks," he informed the bartender. The bartender gave him a nod, then moved to mix the drinks.

The Saturday night music pulsed throughout the bar, but he just felt tired.

He was eighteen years old. He couldn't keep the one girl that he actually wanted. He couldn't live up to his father's standards, but now he was dead. He couldn't even save himself, how was he supposed to save other people?

Shoving the drink to his lips, he swallowed hard, savoring the burning in his throat. Ah, the sweet taste of pain.

He was suddenly aware of someone standing behind him. When he turned around, no one was there.

He forced down another drink. Then another.

Hot breath covered his neck, whispering to him, "Hey, Chuckles. Let's do it like the janitor's closet in middle school."

Chuck whipped his head around. No one. He was hallucinating now. He stepped out of the bar, and pulled his jacket on. His limo pulled up to the curb.

As he was getting in, he swore he saw the faint shadow of someone with black hair fly around the corner, down into the alley.

tbc


	4. Numbers

**Title:** Finish my Sentences

**Summary:** When an unwelcome visitor returns to the Upper East, she brings along her Louis Vuitton luggage full of devious scams and schemes. This time, she's not only aimed at Serena, but the whole lot of the Constance upperclassmen. Only two people are scandalous enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can these two work through their differences when they find out that said visitor is more dangerous than she seems? Chuck/Blair; various other pairings. Set after 2.16.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own any characters.

**Rating:** PG-13; possible to have one or two M-rated chapters.

**Author's Note:** I'm a little disappointed at review count for chapter 3 :( But that's okay; Just make sure to keep reviewing! I love feedback. Anyway, I'm actually getting over my writer's block pretty easily I think. I'm pretty sure I just have trouble starting a new story, because whenever I'm into it, I'm REALLY into it. This story is getting very exciting and I really love writing it now. Also I've gotten 30 alerts! That's awesome... (: Seriously. Okay, sorry, I'll stop talking, not that you read this anyway. As always, Najet and Abby kind of pwn. Oh god, I just used the word pwn. That's so...2008.

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

* * *

**IV. Numbers**

He was ready at the door when Blair arrived.

"You got the address that Carter Baizen has been staying at?" Blair asked, as he pulled his jacket on.

"Yeah. There is nothing my PI can't find," Chuck replied, closing the door firmly behind him.

The limo ride was silent and awkward. Blair fiddled with her hands in her lap, looking out the window from time to time. Chuck mixed a drink for himself in the mini-bar and stared at Blair. She finally noticed him looking at her, and he turned away, embarrassed.

The limo pulled up in front of an old abandoned apartment building. The neighborhood looked sketchy, and Blair seemed hesitant to step out of the car.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Chuck reassured her, "I'll make sure we're okay."

"I wasn't worried. I was just…thinking," Blair scoffed, placing a shaky foot on the dark sidewalk.

The wind blew eerily and rattled the tin trash bins; the moon was bright and seemed to cast haunting shadows on the ground. Blair shivered as the wind blew her hair about.

"You cold?" Chuck asked, slipping his jacket off.

"No, I'm f-f-fine," Blair insisted. Chuck draped his jacket on her shoulders.

They reached a thick metal door labeled _163 _and Chuck stopped short.

"This is it," Chuck told her, "This is the apartment."

Blair cringed a little. She wouldn't admit it, but she was scared to death of being here. It seemed like the part of the movie where a serial killer with a chainsaw would jump out. And Blair would be the victim.

They knocked on the door. _Bam! Bam!_

Silence.

Chuck tested the doorknob. It turned with ease; the apartment had not been locked. Slowly, quietly, the twosome tiptoed into the dimly lit room. Blair groped around for a switch until her hand brushed it. Flipping it up, the room suddenly flooded with light.

They gasped in unison. Guns and knives lay strewn across the room. Though the room seemed to be empty otherwise, they took cautious steps backwards. Blair turned around to leave when a purple note caught her eye. She inhaled sharply. She went over to pick the letter up and her eyes widened in horror.

_Dear Serena―_

_Or should I say Chuck and Blair. I know you guys are following my trail._

_You honestly think I'm stupid enough to leave my address where Chuck's PI can find it? You two think too little of me. Anyway, nice of you to stop by._

_Maybe next time, you'll come visit again. Of course, you might not leave._

_As always,_

_Me_

"Chuck, Chuck, Chuck…" Blair cried out, making a dash for the door, "Read this."

Chuck picked the slip of paper up and read it aloud.

"If the person isn't Carter than who could it be? My PI told me that Georgina is still in boarding school, Catherine and Marcus are still in France, and Agnes is modeling in Hollywood," Chuck informed her.

"Couldn't it be someone that you didn't have on your list?" Blair suggested.

Chuck shook his head, "No. Not possible."

Blair shrugged, "Well, I'm out of here. I can't stay here."

Chuck looked over at her and caught her frightened eyes staring wildly at him. Her hands were in little fists, clutching the pockets of his jacket fiercely.

"Fine, let's go," Chuck agreed.

The night seemed a little colder, a little scarier as they walked back to the limo. A cacophonous giggle rang out from behind them, but went unheard, muffled by the harsh squealing of the wind.

**…**

The limo ride back from apartment _163 _was less awkward. Blair and Chuck whispered in hushed tones about what they'd seen. Whoever was out to get them was more dangerous than a couple of threats. They were real.

Chuck stepped out of the limo first, as they reached Blair's house. He quickly ran around to the other side of the car to open the door for her. They walked into the house side-by-side, his hand on her waist guiding her towards the entrance.

"Chuck, is everything going to be okay?" Blair asked, eyes full of terror.

"I think so," Chuck told her, but knew he was lying.

"I'm sorry we had to leave before we got anymore evidence. I was too scared," Blair apologized, sliding his jacket off her narrow frame and returning it to him.

Her skin brushed against his and a tiny jolt shot through him. Their hands lingered on each other's for a split second before she pulled away. She jumped back as if she had just touched a burning stove. Her face flamed. Suddenly, Chuck's instinct betrayed him, pulling him towards her like a magnetic force.

His hand gripped the back of her neck as he let his lips brush hers softly. He felt her pull closer to him pushing her tongue into his open mouth. He moved in to deepen the kiss, but in an instant her mouth was gone.

Her eyes were wide and her face flushed, "Chuck…what are you doing?"

"Nothing, I just…" he trailed off, staring at his feet mentally punching himself.

"You told me we could be nothing but friends. Not even friends, just partners, even. Why are you doing this, Chuck?" Blair almost pleaded.

"Fuck, Blair. I can't help it. I have to get out of here," Chuck hissed venomously and took off from her front step.

**…**

He hated himself.

He hated himself more than he had ever hated anyone in the world. He had managed to ruin the only partnership with Blair that he could ever have. He couldn't give her what she needed; she deserved so much better. His one task was to stay away from his feelings towards her, but he couldn't follow his only rule. His eyes flickered to the bottle of vodka on the shelf. He had promised himself not to touch it unless it was an emergency.

His thoughts rewound to the kiss hours prior. This was definitely an emergency.

**…**

"Serena, he kissed me," Blair told her best friend.

"What? Chuck? I thought you two were done!" Serena exclaimed, muffled by the sound of her running a toothbrush over her teeth.

"We were! We are!" Blair replied indignantly, "He just jumped me. What was I supposed to do?"

Serena's eyes flew accusingly to Blair's face. Guilt was written all over it and Serena laughed.

"You are a lying little whore," Serena giggled, "You like him."

"He's an asshole that I can't trust. What's to like about that?" Blair asked, pretending to be disgusted.

"That's what I've always told you. But somehow you still like him, so…" Serena's grin grew a little wider.

"Stop saying that! We're just trying to solve this mystery for you," Blair scolded Serena.

"Whatever. You like him," Serena smirked then turned the faucet water on so she couldn't hear Blair's retort.

Minutes later, the two were sprawled onto Serena's bed.

"So, how's the case going?" Serena asked Blair, almost mocking their mission.

"It's not like it's Shaggy and Scooby solving some ridiculous case; you could be in serious danger," Blair replied, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, that reminds me! I got another letter," Serena informed Blair, pulling a sheet of paper out of her nightstand. Then, she pulled out a pen. Scribbling quickly, she held up the note for Blair to read.

_Blair―_

_You so like Chuck._

_Love, _

_Me_

Blair swiped the note onto the ground, "You're so immature Serena."

Suddenly a loud knocking interrupted their conversation. Serena walked to the door and opened it cautiously. She let out a loud gasp. Blair hurried over. She, too, cried out in disbelief.

A note had been taped to the door reading:

_Serena―_

_I enjoyed your friends' visit to my house today. _

_Maybe you could tell them to stay away? Unless you'd rather live knowing you led your friends to their death…Oh, wait! You already led Pete there._

_Love,_

_Me_

**…**

Blair's heart pounded. She had to get ahold of Chuck. Phone call after phone call sent her straight to voicemail. Frustrated, she threw her phone onto the ground. It split with a loud crack.

"Fuck!" Blair screamed, running out of Serena's apartment trying to wave a taxi down.

It was Georgina. Georgina was here. She was the one making all their lives hell. Blair also knew that Georgina had Carter on her side. They were working together; she was sure of it now. Why weren't any of the damn taxis stopping for her?

She knew she probably looked like a fool, waving her arms frantically, rushing towards the street. Somehow, now was the only time Blair Waldorf could not attract any attention.

**…**

Chuck spun around dizzily. Wow, the sky was pretty. The moon was beautiful. Oh, the carpet was so soft. His hair was so lush. The beds in his apartment were so bouncy. The alcohol he had mixed with his hash was probably a little much. He couldn't even remember his own name. It rhymed with ass, he was sure. Ass…sass…mass…oh, right. Bass. A sudden pounding interrupted his rhyming spree.

He flung the door open invitingly. Oh, the hallways were beautifully decorated!

"Hey, Chuck," the figure at the doorway greeted.

She was beautiful, too. Long, tangly black curls fell down her back and her black skirt looked extravagant. Chuck felt the tightness in his pants.

"Hey," he replied, smiling at her.

"How've you been? I've missed you," the girl replied, stepping into the room.

"I'm pretty good," Chuck said, twirling her onto his bed.

He pressed his lips onto hers harshly, painfully. It was nothing like the kiss he had experienced earlier that night. This felt sinfully good. No softness, no tenderness. Just him and her. Her breath wafted hotly against his ear.

"Well, Chuck. I've got to say, you're a much better kisser than 6th grade."

tbc


	5. Denial

**Title:** Finish my Sentences

**Summary:** When an unwelcome visitor returns to the Upper East, she brings along her Louis Vuitton luggage full of devious scams and schemes. This time, she's not only aimed at Serena, but the whole lot of the Constance upperclassmen. Only two people are scandalous enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can these two work through their differences when they find out that said visitor is more dangerous than she seems? Chuck/Blair; various other pairings. Set after 2.16.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own any characters.

**Rating:** PG-13; possible to have one or two M-rated chapters.

**Author's Note:** This one's a long chapter. Well, at least for me. I have so many alerts and favorites, yet not many reviews. Even if you do alert or favorite I still don't know what you thought about it! I love feedback because it always helps me improve.

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

* * *

**V. Denial**

The glaring sun woke Chuck from his deep slumber. Rubbing his eyes and sitting up, he suddenly realized he wasn't alone. A figure lay next to him, naked, with her face covered by his thin sheets. Memories flooded back to him: the kiss with Blair, the alcohol, the drugs, and of course the drunken sex. Had he slept with Blair? He would kill himself. He truly would kill himself.

Lightly removing the sheet from her face, he silently gasped. _Georgina Sparks?!_

No. No, no, no, no. He hadn't slept with Georgina; it wasn't possible. He hadn't even seen her since the last time he and Blair had gotten rid of her? She was supposed to be a boarding school! His PI had told him. And he was never wrong.

He wondered if he should try to wake her up, but decided against it. Maybe after he grabbed some breakfast downstairs. He quietly tiptoed out of the room, rubbing at his throbbing hangover. As soon as he pulled the door open, he ran into a person sleeping in a curled ball at his feet. _Blair?!_

Nothing made sense in his mind. Georgina was in his bed and Blair was outside his door. He knelt down and shook her gently.

"Blair," he whispered, "Blair, wake up."

She groaned and rolled over a little. Her eyes opened and she blinked for a little while trying to figure out where she was.

"Blair, why are you sleeping outside my room?" Chuck asked as she sat up.

"I…" she scratched her matted hair, trying to remember, "Oh! I know who Carter's been working with! Georgina! She left Serena a note. About Pete! And the only person that knows about her killing Pete is Georgina," Blair said in one breath.

"What?" Chuck exclaimed, eyebrows shooting up.

"Yeah, it's Georgina. We just have to find where she is. And ask her why she's been threatening us," Blair said, standing up onto her feet ready to leave.

"Uhh…I know where she is," Chuck sighed. He didn't have much of a choice except to tell her the truth.

"Where?" Blair turned around.

"She's in my room," Chuck told her wincing in preparation for her response.

"You slept with her already?!" Blair asked.

"I don't know…I drank a little too much last night and she might have just come to my hotel room…I don't exactly remember the details, Blair," Chuck replied.

"Look, this is good. You find out what she wants. Don't tell her I'm here. I'll leave. By the way, I broke my phone. I'll get a new one in an hour," Blair told him, quietly walking away.

"Wait…" Chuck tried calling; Blair had never broken a phone before. He atttempted to follow her down the hall, but she was already gone.

**…**

"Georgina," Chuck addressed when he was fully dressed.

"Chuck! Hi," Georgina smiled, raising an eyebrow seductively.

"When did you come to my room?" Chuck asked her, "And why are you not wearing clothes?"

"Don't be silly. You know when I came to your room. Last night. You invited me in, remember? And why am I not wearing clothes? Well, if you'd like an exact demonstration of how that happened, I'll go get into my clothes and we can repeat everything that happened last night," Georgina giggled.

"Uh, no thanks," Chuck grimaced, "But, we can go down to the coffee shop in the lobby to talk. I feel like we should…catch up."

**…**

"I hate him," Blair told Serena, as she picked up a scarf in Bergdorf's, practically ripping it apart.

"Calm down," Serena said, rescuing the poor scarf from it's tragic fate, "He said he was drunk. You know he drinks a lot. He probably thought it was you."

"Yeah, right. He knows she's dangerous. Yet he can't keep it in his pants. She has like fifty million weapons in her apartment! She could kill him," Blair averted her eyes from Serena's. She wasn't jealous. She was just nervous about Georgina being so close to Chuck. That wasn't jealousy.

"Georgina's always had a soft spot for Chuck. You know she wouldn't lay a finger on him," Serena told her.

Blair scoffed, "Yeah, she wouldn't lay a finger but maybe she'd lay her whole naked body on him."

Serena let out a chuckle, "Well, that's true. Why do you even care? You don't like him…do you?" Serena's eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Fuck no! I'm just watching out for him. I'd rather he not die," Blair informed Serena, successfully tearing the scarf she was previously fingering into two pieces.

"You have to pay for that," a perky blonde sales assistant said as she walked past.

Blair fell to the floor in frustration, "Serena…what if you're right? What if I do still…" her voice caught in her throat, "like him?"

Serena's eyes widened. She hadn't expected Blair to give in; it just wasn't her.

"We're just going to have to wait and see…" Serena assured her.

**…**

"So what brings you to the Upper East Side?" Chuck asked Georgina, scooting away from her arm that was barely brushing his.

"I'm just in town…for a little business," Georgina told him, winking a little.

"Have you talked to Carter Baizen, perhaps?" Chuck asked Georgina, ignoring her attempts at seduction, cutting straight to the point.

"Ah…uh…" Georgina stuttered, "No. Why would you say that?"

"Because Blair said so," Chuck informed her, carefully analyzing her response.

"Of course I haven't seen Carter Baizen. I haven't seen him since I moved away. Is he in New York?" Georgina said, batting her thick eyelashes.

"Yes," Chuck responded, "but I'm pretty sure you two have been talking."

"No, Chuck. We haven't," Georgina corrected firmly.

"Well, I know that Carter has been leaving notes in Serena's locker. And Blair told me that one of them mentioned Pete. You're the only one that knows about that," Chuck stated.

"Since you just said that, I'd assume you know, too. So that means I'm not the only one," Georgina giggled playfully.

"Stop doing that. Stop avoiding the question. Are you or are you not working with Carter Baizen?" Chuck demanded.

"I'm not. Blair has it out for me and you know it," Georgina counter-argued.

"Don't bring Blair into this. This is about you and Carter," Chuck hissed at her.

"Carter and I what? You're just siding with Blair as always. You have no proof that I'm the one that's behind any of this. Pete? In case you're forgetting Blair announced that to the entire Yale welcome committee. I'm sick of you always being 'Blair this, Blair that'. Even when we were younger you never stopped talking about her. It's just too fucking bad that she doesn't like you back," Georgina let out a harsh laugh.

"Shut the fuck up, Georgina," Chuck growled menacingly, "Blair and I are just friends."

"Are you shitting me? Whenever you talk about her, you drool a little. You don't like her. You're in _love_ with her," Georgina accused.

"I'm done. And don't you dare come back," Chuck said flatly, pushing his chair back. He strolled out of the coffee shop without a single look back.

**…**

Chuck sat in the large, plush armchair. Putting the Cuban cigar to his mouth, he inhaled deeply, letting the smoke invade his lungs. Georgina was wrong. He didn't love Blair. He didn't even like Blair. Well, as anything more than an accomplice of course. Whatever they had previously shared was just history. And wasn't it Thoreau that said "you must live in the present"? Well, that's exactly what he would do.

His mouth curled around the cigar again. He probably should call Blair. He probably should tell her about his encounter with Georgina.

His phone rang and he winced. It would be Blair, he knew it.

"Chuck Bass," he answered.

"Chuck! I've been trying to reach you all day! Where the hell have you been?" Blair's voice screamed into the phone.

"I…turned my phone off," he confessed truthfully.

"What the hell? Why? What if it had been something important?" Blair retorted in disbelief. To turn a phone off was on a level that also included armed robbery and prostitution.

"I had to think about stuff. But what is it Blair?" Chuck attempted to move on from the question.

"You had breakfast with Georgina. Do I even have to ask what?" Blair responded.

"Nothing happened. She just told me that she wasn't working with Carter. And then I left," Chuck replied, skipping over the 'You love Blair' conversation.

"She is working with Carter! It's her…I know it!" Blair insisted indignantly.

"Have you ever considered you were wrong?" Chuck responded harshly before realizing what he had said.

"I'm not wrong, Chuck!" Blair yelled, "You know I'm right. Why are you acting like you don't?"

"No. I don't know you're right. I don't know anything anymore," Chuck grimaced. Georgina's words stood out like a bright neon flashing sign. And the fact that Chuck felt those disgusting _butterflies_ again made him feel like throwing up.

"What's wrong with you?" Blair asked. She could sense his discomfort from a mile away.

"Nothing. Sorry. I'll just talk to you tomorrow, okay?" Chuck asked hurriedly.

"Uh. Okay?" Blair's voice sounded confused even over the line. Chuck had never dismissed her like that before.

He hung up and wandered out to his suite balcony. The New York City lights glittered like stars in the night sky. For one moment, he let himself forget his problems. His phone slipped out of his hand and he didn't panic. He just watched the phone tumble to it's death.

**…**

The room was still dark hours later. Chuck didn't both turning the lights on. He still sat in his chair, staring at the walls. He let his unconscious thoughts slip out. There was a little Blair, mixed with some Georgina, with a hint of his father, Nathaniel, Serena, and Eric.

Suddenly singing seemed to fill his mind. It was a loud, drunk, off-key singing. But it didn't seem to be coming from within his thoughts. It seemed to be from outside his door.

He flung the door open.

Georgina lay on the floor, without shoes, singing show tunes.

"Georgina. What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to never come back here," Chuck told her, moving to close his door.

She stuck her foot out to block the door from shutting, "How come you always like Blair better than me?"

"What are you talking about?" Chuck feigned confusion.

Georgina let out a shrill giggle, "What are _you _talking about?"

"You're so drunk Georgina. Go find some doorstep to sleep on, please. And leave me alone!" Chuck hissed at her. He couldn't take this.

"Sure, sure. Maybe you should watch your friends backs though. Me…and Carter…we'll be coming," Georgina laughed drunkenly.

Chuck's eyes widened, "You lied. You lied to me."

"Of course I lied to you," Georgina responded without missing a beat.

Her words finally became clear in his mind.

"If you touch Blair, I swear to fucking God I'll come find both of you and beat the living hell out of you. I'll fucking kill you," Chuck took a step towards her.

"Oh…we won't touch your precious Waaallldoorrff," Georgina said, stretching out her name, "But I wouldn't be so sure about…"

Chuck stepped closer once more, "Who Georgina? Who?"

"Starts with a van. Ends with a Woodsen," Georgina responded, before promptly passing out in front of Chuck's suite.

tbc


	6. Search

**Title:** Finish my Sentences

**Summary:** When an unwelcome visitor returns to the Upper East, she brings along her Louis Vuitton luggage full of devious scams and schemes. This time, she's not only aimed at Serena, but the whole lot of the Constance upperclassmen. Only two people are scandalous enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can these two work through their differences when they find out that said visitor is more dangerous than she seems? Chuck/Blair; various other pairings. Set after 2.16.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own any characters.

**Rating:** PG-13; possible to have one or two M-rated chapters.

**Author's Note:** This actually started out being a really terrible filler chapter, but kind of led to this. So I hope it satisfies the CB shippers who are just dying to get some CB action. Oh, and thank you too Blood Red Kiss of Death, who pointed out some character flaws in my Georgina/Chuck conversation and for checking over this chapter. I will work harder to somehow create them more in character next time. And of course to Najet and Abby for their amazing inputs. Oh, by the way, so sorry about having people drunk all the time in my stories. It must be some disease. Anyway, please review!

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

* * *

**VI. Search**

Chuck watched Georgina crumple to the floor. He stepped away, back into the security of his own room. He pulled the hotel phone from its stand and stabbed at the numbers. It probably hadn't been the best time to demolish his cell phone, he groaned to himself.

The ringing seemed endless… "Hi, it's Serena! Leave a message."

"Serena, you need to come to my hotel room. Like right now," Chuck left a hurried message, trying to warn her. But being as impatient as he was, he had to get a hold of her immediately. There wasn't any doubt in his mind that Georgina would go after her the first chance she had.

He dialed Blair.

"You think you can just hang up on me like that and I'll pick up whenever you call?" Blair's little voice shook the speaker in his phone.

"Well, you're talking to me now, aren't you?" Chuck's smirk could be heard over the phone.

"What do you need? I'm busy," Blair retorted.

"Have you seen Serena? I need her," Chuck added, just to work Blair's nerves.

"Classy. Georgina and then my best friend? You are really a piece of work, Chuck Bass," Blair hissed into the phone.

"I _need_ her because I have a feeling she's Georgina and Carter's latest target," Chuck clarified, chuckling at Blair's reaction.

"_What__?_" Blair gasped into the phone.

"If you hadn't gone all psycho bitch on me, I could have explained earlier," Chuck said.

"Shut up!" Blair yelled, too frustrated with the situation to start any witty banter, "Where did you see her last?"

"Nowhere. I was hoping you knew," Chuck explained.

"Chuck! They could shoot her. They could cut her into millions of pieces. They could violently burn her over open flames," Blair was near hysterics.

Blair's panic seemed to cause an amused laugh from Chuck, "I'm pretty sure they wouldn't fry her."

"Look. You check all the bars. I'll check all the stores. We'll report back in an hour," Blair instructed.

**…**

Serena was nowhere to be found. Blair had been to Bendel's, Bergdorf's, even Bloomingdale's. Yet the Serena sighting tally was still at a zero. Serena could be naïve sometimes. Serena could be a pain in the ass a lot of the time. But Serena was still Blair's one true best friend. If anything happened, Blair wouldn't forgive herself.

Her eyes were sparkling with tears as she checked boutiques on the side of the road that even Serena wouldn't sink to the level of shopping at. She was going to try and call again.

"Hi, it's Serena! Leave a message."

"S, where are you? Chuck and I have been looking for you like crazy. Are you okay? If you see Carter or Georgina, run like hell. We'll explain later."

Blair snapped her phone shut, staring at it, willing it to ring.

It didn't.

**…**

Chuck pushed through the thick, sweaty crowds covered in the stench of alcohol. It reeked so badly, he wondered how he drank without vomiting from the scent. It was dark in the club and his heart beat in time to the pulsing music. A glimmer of blonde hair caught his attention.

He made his way over, prepared to tap her on the shoulder, but caught himself as he saw her face. Not Serena.

This was the fifth club he had checked. Each one still had the same result.

Serena wasn't even his blood sister. Last he checked, they weren't even really friends. Somewhere deep down, he finally dug up the answer he'd been looking for. He was only looking for Serena because she was Blair's best friend. He grimaced in disgust. He'd rather ignore that sudden realization. Maybe he was in denial, but Chuck preferred denial than having to deal with his actual emotions, if they could be even be called that.

He wandered out of that particular bar. He walked along the darkened sidewalks, watching the taxi cabs zoom by in a blur. The lights from advertisements and shops sparkled above him. Tourists rushed from street to street, looking terrified. It was such a large city. And Serena was such a small person.

**…**

"Serena! Where are you?" Blair screamed into the tiny phone for the ninth time that night. Not only was her absence irritating, it was also severely frightening, and Blair just wasn't equipped to handle this.

What if something had really happened to Serena? Blair shivered at the thought. It couldn't be possible. That was worst-case scenario and Blair refused to think about it anymore. Serena would be okay. She would.

She stumbled into a shoe store on 5th Avenue, lit with bright lights, twinkling and glimmering. Serena, she silently pleaded, please be in here, please, please. The shoes were lined in perfect rows, displayed on chrome white cases. Yet the beautiful store had not one customer inside.

Blair sifted through the racks of shoes, hoping Serena would be standing there, giggling her four year old laugh, smiling with all her perfectly white teeth showing. But no one was there. No one was in the store. An odd feeling crept over Blair; it was one she was familiar with. Someone seemed to be watching her.

Suddenly, a lady, dressed in all white with a white cap hiding her eyes, walked out of the storage room. Maybe she worked here?

"Excuse me?" Blair called to the dark-haired figure, placing shoes onto the stands.

There was no reply.

"Excuse me? Can you help me with something?" Blair beckoned the lady.

The mysterious girl dropped the shoes in her hand and took slow, sauntering steps towards Blair.

"Ma'am, have you seen…" Blair's voice trailed off as she caught a glimpse of her face.

"Have you lost something?" Georgina asked, grinning wickedly, letting the brightness of the store capture and clarify her vicious smile.

"Georgina?" Blair stammered, "You're supposed to be…"

A phone call interrupted her sentence. She picked it up hoping with all her heart it would be Serena. But the line was dead. No one was at the other end.

When she turned around to finish her accusation, Georgina was gone. The lights glittered as Blair stood gazing around at the deserted store.

**…**

This would be the last place he would check, he swore to himself. The lights danced in sync with the music, but Chuck didn't notice. It was getting too late, he was tired, hungry, and worn out. He was beginning to think that he just wasn't cut out for this detective stuff. But the thought of Blair's defeated face sent him back to work, searching club after club, until his ears felt like they would bleed from the pounding music, his head throbbing, and his legs tired from all the walking. He wanted nothing more than to call his driver, but he knew it would be too flashy, attracting too much attention.

"Hey, you!" he called to the bartender, who seemed to be having a little too much difficulty opening up a can than any experienced bartender should.

The bartender sent a glare his way, but quickly looked away as he caught a glimpse of who was speaking to him.

"Don't look away from me. I'm Chuck Bass," Chuck growled. He was sick of getting attitude from alcohol-serving lowlifes.

"I know who you are," was the muttered reply.

"Then acknowledge me, goddammit," Chuck hissed venomously. The "I-don't-care-who-the-hell-you-are-but-I'm-getting-you-your-scotch" approach was starting to work his nerves and he was about ready to crack.

"Have you seen Serena van der Woodsen here tonight?" Chuck asked impatiently.

"No," came the offhand response. And he looked up.

Chuck's eyes bore into the bartender's until a wave of recognition washed through him. Those eyes, that half-smirk, and that raspy growl could only belong to one person. _Carter Baizen._

"Carter! You fucking imbecile," Chuck said, leaning over the counter, whispering in a dangerous hiss, "Tell me where you're hiding Serena or I'll kill you, just like I promised."

Carter's smirk ceased instantly as he noticed the seriousness in Chuck's voice.

"We don't have Serena," Carter replied, his eyes flashing towards something behind Chuck. Carter made a quick hand signal in reply to whoever was behind Chuck.

Chuck whipped his head around to see who it was. Only a horde of bobbing partygoers danced behind him. There was no one else there.

"Carter," Chuck said, turning back around.

A new bartender was there, serving as if he'd been there all night. As if Chuck had imagined the whole conversation with Carter.

**…**

They met each other in the lobby, eyes downcast, hoping the other wouldn't sense the fear hidden within. Serena was nowhere to be found.

"Chuck, I…" Blair started, trying to come up with an explanation.

"I know. I know," Chuck said, instinctively trying to soothe her. He jumped away as his hand brushed hers. Too dangerous. It was too damn dangerous.

"But Serena could be anywhere. You promised you would take care of the both us," Blair said, lip trembling, eyes smarting a little.

"I tried. But Blair, sometimes trying just isn't enough," Chuck sighed.

The elevator ride seemed to drag for hours. Questions were bouncing around in both their heads and they were jittery with anticipation. At long last, the doors slid open. Both their hearts lurched as they stepped out. An incessant giggle filled the air. In front of suite 1812, lay Serena van der Woodsen, attempting a somersault towards them.

"Chuck! Blair! You're home! I tried to call you, but I don't remember how…" Serena warbled.

Blair's eyes grew wide with excitement, and forgetting to be prim and proper for once, flung her arms around Serena's tipsy figure.

"Serena! We thought…" Blair started.

Serena cut her off, "Sorry. I went out to a family dinner with Rufus and Dan and all of them…they just looked so family. So I think I drank a little too much."

"Serena, we're just glad you're okay," Blair said, crushing her into another hug, and then she motioned at Chuck, "Right?"

"Yeah, glad you're okay," Chuck replied, giving a half-hearted smile.

Serena grinned at them drunkenly, "Oh, you two are just too cute."

"Serena, you're staying in my suite tonight. You cannot leave. Carter and Georgina are not exactly the safest people in the world. You promise you'll stay?" Chuck asked Serena.

"Yes," Serena replied, before grabbing Chuck's keys, and falling down onto the fluffy comforter of Chuck's bed.

"I'm taking Blair home," Chuck called, locking the door behind him.

**…**

Blair's cheeks flushed at memories of the exact spot she sat at the moment.

"You need something to drink?" Chuck offered, motioning towards the mini-fridge.

"I'm okay," Blair replied, trying to focus her eyes anywhere but on Chuck's, "By the way, thanks for helping me look for Serena. You didn't have to do that for me."

Chuck's face burned. He was caught. "I was worried about her too."

"No, you weren't," Blair replied, "And it's not like I'm looking for some kind of response or a your welcome. I'm just letting you know I'm grateful that you helped me. Chuck Bass doesn't always have to be the enemy, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess," Chuck responded tiredly.

The limo lurched at that moment, sending Blair tumbling into Chuck's lap. It was as if their life was a television show or a previously plotted play. As Blair locked eyes with Chuck's dancing eyes, she forgot everything. Where she was, who she was, why she was there. All she knew was Chuck's lips were dangerously close to hers, inching nearer and nearer with every passing second.

The moment Blair's lips grazed Chuck's, he jumped back.

"Blair, you don't want this," he commanded.

"I do," Blair responded, once again pressing her lips feverishly against his, savoring the taste of his tongue dancing in perfect rhythm with hers.

tbc


	7. Realization

**Title:** Finish my Sentences

**Summary:** When an unwelcome visitor returns to the Upper East, she brings along her Louis Vuitton luggage full of devious scams and schemes. This time, she's not only aimed at Serena, but the whole lot of the Constance upperclassmen. Only two people are scandalous enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can these two work through their differences when they find out that said visitor is more dangerous than she seems? Chuck/Blair; various other pairings. Set after 2.16.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own any characters.

**Rating:** PG-13; possible to have one or two M-rated chapters.

**Author's Note:** Reviews were awesome last chapter! I keep thinking that these chapters will end up kind of short, but they end up being much longer than I expect. Anyway, this may/may not be M-rated, I can't really tell. As always, reviews are love! There is some major CB action, get excited! Thanks Abby and Jackie (: You guys are amazin'.

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

* * *

**VII. Realization**

The muted sound of cars rushing by could be heard, but only faintly in the background, as if the volume had been lowered. Even in the dim lighting, Chuck could see the yearning in her eyes. They needed each other.

But he had been dead set on sticking to his pact. Chuck would only cause drama to ensue in Blair's life. And Blair would certainly wreak havoc in his. But sometimes, he thought as he brought his lips forcefully to hers, logic just wasn't an answer.

"Chuck…" Blair gasped in between kisses, "You…want this, too, don't you?"

Chuck hesitated briefly. Was there really a right answer? A yes would most certainly lead to exactly what he was trying to prevent. A no would be a complete lie, and had the possibility of hurting Blair, which was one of the last things Chuck wanted to do.

"I…" Chuck tried to formulate some kind of answer.

Blair removed her hands that were entwining themselves into his thick hair. She pulled away, sitting back onto her seat, looking ashamed and furious at the same time.

"Blair, it's not that I don't want this. But we are who we are. I'm never going to satisfy you," Chuck explained, mentally kicking himself. Damaging Blair's ego was one of the stupidest things he could do.

A grimace crawled onto Blair's face, "Well don't let me make you do anything you don't want to."

"Blair…" Chuck reached out towards her. She stared out the window, trying to force his voice out of her ears, tuning into the humming sound of the limo's motor.

Maybe he would regret this. Maybe he was making a decision that would ruin his life. Maybe he was still the little seventeen year old, frightened to death by his own feelings, preferring to ignore than rather acknowledge them. No matter who he was, he was still Chuck Bass. The inner vulnerable Chuck that rarely appeared seem to take a hold of him, forcing him to make the most irrational choice he could ever make.

He reached out again, cupping her dainty face with his broad hands, pulling her towards him, capturing her lips into a smooth, delicious kiss.

Her tongue moved in sync with his, following his lead, lips melding with each others' as if they were made together. His lips grazed her earlobe, trailing down her jaw line, then onto her bare shoulder.

"Chuck…" Blair moaned, "Don't do this just because I want it." But somehow the harsh edge she had attempted to maintain had softened, muffled by her sighs and gasps of ecstasy.

"Did you ever think," Chuck said, slowly lifting her dress over her head, placing a forceful kiss on her lips, "that I wanted this more than you did?"

Blair's chocolate-colored eyes locked with his. There wasn't a trace of sarcasm or insincerity in them. They were in agreement; they needed each other.

Blair worked steadily at the buttons on his shirt, pausing every few seconds to place biting kisses onto his neck. Chuck could feel himself growing harder and harder, to the point that it physically hurt.

"Blair…" he growled huskily into her ear, working her earlobe with his tongue.

He felt her heartbeat quicken, and her breaths grow shallow. Giving up on the buttons, Blair proceeded to remove his shirt, buttons flying in every direction, plinking against the windows of his limo, then falling onto the seat around them.

"You're…wearing…too much clothes," Chuck hissed at her, using his perfectly mastered bra-clasp-removal technique: his teeth. He heard her intake a breath sharply as his lips came in contact with the warm skin on her back. Flinging the bra to the side, he grabbed her, pressing her into the leather interior seat.

Her hands worked at his belt buckle, and with a brass clang his pants were off. He was a little out of breath now. Only Blair did this to him, and he didn't feel like analyzing the reasons why. Besides, he had a bigger problem to take care of.

Blair felt herself burning. She needed him. She needed him more than anything in the world.

"Beautiful," Chuck whispered as she flipped herself on top. It was so quiet, she felt like she had just imagined it. But he was smiling in such a way, that it was highly plausible that he had said it.

She sank onto him, fully relishing the feeling of him inside of her. He pushed his way on top of her and she was arching and bucking towards him, screaming. They were never sweet and soft. After all, they were Chuck and Blair. They may have been destined for disaster. But at this moment, with Blair's bitter kisses pressing hotly against his shoulder, Chuck Bass felt anything but disastrous.

**…**

Blair lay staring at the ceiling, remembering every touch, every kiss that had occurred last night. Somehow they'd stumbled into Blair's bed. Luckily, Eleanor was away for business. Unluckily, Dorota seemed to be home.

Chuck's eyes fluttered before opening fully. He murmured drearily, "Morning."

Blair was silent. What did any of this mean? Had he changed his mind? Was he ready to finally try what they had been avoiding for so long― a relationship? Her mind was racing was questions that she was dying to ask, but too afraid to hear the answers.

Chuck plodded over to her closet, pulling out one of his silk robes, "Whoa, this is still in here?" Chuck asked, raising an eyebrow.

Blair shrugged. It was better to be passive than to give him too much of a response. Chuck Bass was scared off easily, which was something Blair had to learn the hard way.

"Chuck…" Blair's impatience seemed to push out all her other thoughts, "What does any of this mean?"

Chuck's half-smirk dropped of his face.

"What do you mean?" Chuck asked painfully, turning away from her to avoid eye contact.

"This. Me. You. Sex. What are we? Am I still going to be the one playing the role of 'wife' while you get shit-faced at clubs with whores?" Blair asked. She hadn't intended the question come out so forcefully, but somehow she knew it was what needed to be asked.

Chuck stared back at her. The correct answer, yes, would kill her. And that would kill him as well. The false one, the one he wished he could feed her, would be an absolute lie, and somehow lying to Blair was worse than killing her. He couldn't quite categorize his feelings for her. Love, whatever the hell that was, if it even existed, might have been it, but he just didn't know. But he wasn't ready. He was still the frightened, cowardly little seventeen-year-old who had ruined them just a year before. Trusting himself with Blair's confidence wasn't something he could do to either of them.

His silence seemed to answer her question. Her eyes grew dark with fury.

"Oh, I get it. I'm just another one-time fuck. I'm just another conquest. You know what? I'm glad. I'm relieved, actually. 'The future' my ass. You said we could try it then, but you know the truth? You'll still be exactly who you are; age doesn't determine a person's emotional maturity," Blair hissed at him.

"Maybe I didn't want to sleep with you, Blair. You gave me no choice. Contrary to belief, I don't want to ruin you," Chuck growled back at her. This was exactly what he had been avoiding when he hesitated last night. Feelings.

"Right, Chuck. Because it's not like you could have stopped. You could have dropped me off and then satisfied your needs," Blair grimaced, "elsewhere."

"Well why don't you try being me? Then try saying no to a girl who has her shirt off, forcing herself onto you," Chuck bit back viciously. How was this at all his fault?

"I do recall you saying no, plenty easily, to me on many occasions," Blair replied, looking away, avoiding his eyes.

"You said we were done. I was trying to abide by that. You can't have it both ways, Blair!" Chuck's voice raised with every word his voice thundering as he said her name.

"How could I have done this again? I always think you'll change, but you'll still be the self-absorbed asshole that I always knew. You're a motherfucking bastard and I never want to see you again," Blair screamed, her words filled with venom.

"Really? Because I'm asking myself the same thing. I just slept with the same uptight bitch that I promised myself I wouldn't," Chuck barked at her.

"Oh? Uptight bitch? Well, this uptight bitch is telling you to get the fuck out of my house before I call the police," Blair's shrill voice pierced into his brain, shattering his hope of ever being able to work out anything with her ever again.

He left her room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

"Mister Chuck!" Blair heard Dorota exclaim.

"Dorota," Blair beckoned as soon as she heard the door slam, "I need you."

"Yes, Miss Blair?" Dorota asked, rushing to Blair's side.

Blair didn't reply, but simply sniffled into Dorota's shirt, hugging her tightly.

**…**

Chuck watched Serena sleep. He counted her breaths. _Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale._ Serena's eyes gently blinked open.

She screamed.

"Chuck? What the hell are you doing?" Serena accused, grabbing at her throbbing temples, "And why does my head hurt like hell?"

Chuck didn't reply. He reclined in his chair, staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks in it.

"Seriously, Chuck. Why am I here? Why are you here? Where's Blair?" Serena asked a series of questions. Just the mention of Blair sent Chuck fuming again.

"Why aren't you answering me?" Serena walked over to Chuck.

"You're here because you were drunk last night. I'm here because I live here. Blair's not here because…" his voice trailed off.

"Oh my God!" Serena exclaimed, once again reaching up to massage her massive hangover, "Is she okay? Where is Blair? What happened?"

"She's fine," Chuck murmured.

Serena stared at him for a long moment. She knew, to an extent, how Chuck Bass worked. And she knew he would be better off not talking for a while. When the time was right, she'd finally learn what had happened last night.

**…**

Blair let out a muffled sob as Dorota pulled a small button out of her tangled hair.

"Miss Blair, why is button in your hair?" Dorota asked, throwing it into the wastebasket.

Blair's response was a soft sniffle.

"Are you okay Miss Blair? What happen to Mister Chuck?" Dorota questioned quizzically.

Blair shot her a death glare. Dorota's mouth snapped shut.

"Like I said. He's as dead to me as his father is dead."

**…**

Hours later, Chuck found himself in the same position, in his reclining chair, staring off into space, not really aware of his surroundings.

The piercing shriek of his new cell phone jolted him up. The number was unrecognized.

"Chuck Bass."

"Chuck! Chuck! It's me. Serena. Is Eric with you?" Serena asked, gasping into the phone.

"Serena? What's wrong? Slow down," Chuck commanded.

"Last night, Eric told Mom that he was going to Jonathan's house. He didn't come home or even give Mom a call so she called me to see if I knew Jonathan's number. I called him and he said he hadn't seen Eric since school," Serena's sobs escaped as she tried to calm herself down so she could speak slowly enough for Chuck to understand.

"Eric? No, he's not with me," Chuck responded. His eyes widened.

_"Starts with a van. Ends with a Woodsen."_

Georgina's words started to make sense. He let out a soft gasp, quickly covering his mouth, hoping Serena hadn't heard.

"What?" was Serena's hurried response.

Chuck took a slow, deep breath, "I think I know who Eric is with."

tbc


	8. Clues

**Title:** Finish my Sentences

**Summary:** When an unwelcome visitor returns to the Upper East, she brings along her Louis Vuitton luggage full of devious scams and schemes. This time, she's not only aimed at Serena, but the whole lot of the Constance upperclassmen. Only two people are scandalous enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can these two work through their differences when they find out that said visitor is more dangerous than she seems? Chuck/Blair; various other pairings. Set after 2.16.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own any characters.

**Rating:** PG-13; possible to have one or two M-rated chapters.

**Author's Note:** Sorry, I'm usually a much, much, much faster updater. But I've been so busy lately, it's been crazy. Plus there was that huge glitch and I couldn't get on for days. Was that just me? So I seriously apologize for my lack of updates. Thanks to everyone that has or is going to review this story, because it's your reviews that make me want to continue writing! Awesomeeee. I'll update this tomorrow, I promise.

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

* * *

**VIII. Clues**

He wasn't even aware that he had left his house and called his driver to take him to the van der Woodsen's until he was actually there. He had hoped Serena was okay; However, when he got there, he saw her frozen on her bed, most likely in the same position he had hung up on her.

"Serena," Chuck greeted.

"Chuck. What do you know? Where is he? Eric is okay, right?" Serena grabbed Chuck's scarf pulling his face closer to hers, "If he's not, I won't let you live to see tomorrow."

Chuck straightened up, rewinding the tie around his neck, "I don't know. I'm not sure if he's okay, but I'm going to do everything in my power to look for him, is that good enough for you?"

Serena's eyes filled with fresh hot tears, "No! No, Chuck, that is _not_ good enough! My little brother is missing! Unless you get him home safely, _nothing_ is okay!"

Chuck took two steps back. As he had realized the day prior, he was no good at all when it came to dealing with emotions, and Serena seemed pretty damn emotional. He watched her break out sobbing, pulling one of her plush pillows to her face.

"Where is he?" She asked in a small voice when she finally removed the pillow.

"I…I think he's with Georgina," Chuck said uncertainly, knowing that if he had said he knew it for a fact, she would again burst into tears.

"_Georgina?!_" Serena's face turned purple with rage, "That bitch can't bother me enough so she has to go for my little brother? How fucked up is she?"

"I'm going to get Mike to investigate on this, okay? And I promise I'll keep my eyes out for clues," Chuck soothed Serena, then he continued in what was almost a whisper, "Besides, I need Eric to be okay too. He's like my little brother."

Serena didn't hear him, "God. We can't tell Mom. She'll absolutely kill me for not calling the police. But if we call the police, Georgina will find out, and I know exactly what she'll do to Eric. I got it. Let's call Blair," Serena attempted to take charge of the rescue mission.

"_No_," Chuck cut in firmly.

"Chuck, I don't know what's going on between you two, but I think Eric is important enough that you two can work together. It's not exactly a secret that you two are the most devious people in the Upper East Side," Serena reasoned, pleading.

"No," Chuck repeated, "I'll do this myself."

And he turned away, walking out Serena's door, before she could catch his eyes clouding over with sorrow and regret. Seeing Blair would only hurt him more, and he needed to be fully functional for this task. Who needed Blair? Chuck would find Eric on his own.

**…**

Blair lay in the same position she had for the past fifteen hours. She noticed, that if she squinted really hard, the ceiling looked like it was caving in, about to fall down onto her. She sighed, who was she kidding? The only thing caving was her. She was extremely tempted to call Chuck and, attempting the impossible, try to converse about whatever it was that was going on between them.

But then, her mind would flash back to his reluctance, and anger would flood her entire body, from the roots of her hair to the tip of her toes. He was just an selfish asshole. He would never change, no matter how hard Blair pushed him, no matter how hard anyone pushed him. The reason he would never change was because he just didn't believe in himself. And Blair was done trying to convince him.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she fumbled around for it, finally finding it under the couch cushion.

"Hello?" Blair answered impatiently. How dare someone interrupt her self-reflection time?

"B, it's me," Serena replied, continuing before Blair could answer, "I need your help."

"Why?" Blair asked suspiciously; this sounded oddly like one of Serena's plans to set her up with someone. In this case, most likely Chuck.

"He's gone," Serena said hysterically, sounding like she was on the verge of tears.

"Who the hell cares? He's a motherfucking douche bag," Blair replied venomously.

"What? Eric?" Serena asked, clearly perplexed.

"What? No. Chuck," Blair clarified. How did Eric come into this conversation?

"Not Chuck! Eric. Eric's gone. Georgina has him," Serena replied in a small, terrified voice.

Blair's mouth hung open, "Georgina has _Eric?_"

A muffled "yes" was her response.

"What. Why. How," a series of unfinished questions came tumbling out of Blair's mouth, as she tried to piece together what little information Serena had given her. Why would Georgina go after Eric? He hadn't been involved in anything.

"I think it's because they couldn't find me. I don't know. Whatever the reason, they have Eric, and I'm scared," Serena sighed.

"And what has," Blair swallowed hard, "Chuck been doing about this?"

"He's getting his PI and all his people. He's really helping, Blair. But I don't think he can do it without you. Can you please try to push aside whatever is going on and just work together? I need your help. Eric needs your help. Come on…do it for us?" Serena pleaded, and Blair could practically see the pouting and the puppy-dog eyes through the phone.

Blair's eyes hardened. There was no way she could work with Chuck Bass, the biggest bastard known to mankind.

"No," Blair hissed.

"Please, Blair? Please, please, please," Serena repeated, urging her to agree.

"_No,_" Blair barked into the phone, "I refuse to work with him."

"Then can you at least tell me what's wrong?" Serena asked sincerely.

"Honestly? We're just too similar to be able to get along."

**…**

"Arizona," Chuck repeated into the tiny black headset.

A muffled reply and apology accompanied by a "yes, Mr. Bass", filtered through the speaker. Chuck groaned and hung up.

They were in Arizona. Mike was useless! Arizona was a huge-ass state; how did knowing what state they were in help them at all? Chuck could spend years searching Arizona and come up empty-handed. With Georgina's excellent hiding techniques (she'd spent months in New York without her parents finding out), Mike might as well have told Chuck that Eric was somewhere on Earth. That's how helpful his tip was.

Maybe Chuck would be able to pick up clues at school the following day.

**…**

Blair had never dreaded school like she dreaded today. Not only was the weather absurdly cold, but the wind squealed fiercely, freezing everyone's ears and various other body parts that were not covered in layers of clothing. Aside from the weather, Blair still had to see Chuck. And she'd gladly stand outside in the freezing weather than have yet another awkward encounter with her…what was he even? An ex-boyfriend? An ex-best friend? He didn't really categorize anywhere.

"Did you find out anything?" Serena asked, as she bounced up to her, climbing the steps two at a time.

"No. I'm working on it," Blair lied. She was scared for Eric, of course, but for one, she knew that Georgina would never actually hurt Eric, and secondly, she had plenty of other things to worry about.

"Good. Look, I'm going to go find…" Serena's voice trailed off, unsure if she should continue the sentence or spare Blair's feelings. She chose the latter, "Hazel. She got a new purse."

Blair's eyes cut viciously at Serena, "I'm not a child. You don't have to lie to me. You're going to go see Chuck. Who the hell cares? Go find him. I'll bet you money he's been too busy this weekend to help you at all," Blair snarled the word 'busy'.

Serena ducked her head. Was there really a correct way to answer this? Either way, Blair would still be furious, so Serena simply walked away, avoiding another argument.

**…**

Chuck fumed in front of the school. Nathaniel was late, as usual, and Chuck was left standing alone in the lunch area, fingering a cigarette in his pocket.

To top it off, he had seen Blair walk by. Twice. And she looked flawless. His stomach surged something sour. Blair had this power over him, that as much as he liked to pretend wasn't there, it was.

"Chuck!" he heard Nathaniel greet, slapping him on the back, making the cigarette tumble out of his hand.

"Dude, smoking on school grounds, again? Really?" Nate coughed a laugh.

"I just need a fucking drink," Chuck hissed back, "This day has been too fucking long."

"It's not even first period yet," Nate shook his head, "I feel bad for you man. What is this even about? Even if you're not usually ponies and rainbows, you're not like cut-your-wrist."

"Nothing. I'm fine," Chuck looked away. Even friendly conversation was hard for him when Blair was standing ten feet away, smiling and laughing at some six foot tall, lacrosse-playing tool. It was even harder because the boy was tugging at her hair, tucking it behind her ear. Chuck had the sudden urge to punch him in the nose. The pretty boy wouldn't be so pretty anymore if his nose was gushing blood, now would he? But Chuck suppressed the feeling. It wasn't worth it, he reminded himself.

Nate followed his gaze, "Dude. Is it Blair? Are you hung up over her still?"

Chuck shook his head. Nathaniel was still oblivious like always. Sure it was partly his fault for never telling him anything, but still Nate could have been a little more observant.

"No, Nathaniel. I'm not still 'hung up over her'. What the fuck does that even mean?" Chuck spat back harshly. Maybe it was wrong to take it out on Nathaniel, but Blair's giggle was still ringing in his ear and the lacrosse-playing son-of-a-bitch was just a little too close to Blair.

**…**

Blair's mouth ached from smiling at Thomas's terrible jokes. Was it even possible for a person to have this little intellect?

"…So I said no, fuck your mom," Thomas snorted a laugh, grinning broadly at her.

Blair managed a half-grimace, half-giggle. How did someone reply to that? The joke was flat-out stupid and Thomas himself was dumber than a bag of rocks.

Her eyes darted in Chuck's direction. He was still standing there, looking at her. Actually, she couldn't tell where he was looking, but she had a feeling it was in her general direction. So she laughed harder, placing a tiny hand on Thomas's chest.

"You're funny," Blair smiled quirkily.

"Thanks," Thomas replied, "So…how about dinner later? I'll give you a call."

Chuck was gone. He had left. Blair squinted her eyes at his retreating figure, which seemed to be headed towards the lockers.

"Huh," Blair answered absent-mindedly, "Yeah, okay."

And she took off.

**…**

Avoiding Chuck had been her toughest task all day. Everywhere she turned, he seemed to be there. She was frustrated because she realized that sometimes he hadn't actually been there. She was hallucinating now.

She plodded down the hallway, noticing Serena's locker was slightly ajar. She walked over, flipping the door open. There, lay a note, similar to the ones they had received earlier. A Georgina note.

_Serena―_

_Eric's been wonderful company._

_Love,_

_Me_

Blair's eyes narrowed in rage. Georgina had really gone too far. Her eyes flew to a slip of paper, of the same stationary, laying on the ground beside the locker. She picked it up, skimming the scrawl. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

_CB―_

_Taking E to apt 163 in Tuc._

_-G_

Blair sank to the floor, her mind flashing back to Chuck slipping off to the lockers; Her head was beginning to hurt, she had just received too much information for her brain to comprehend.

Was it possible that Chuck Bass was not only a relationship-impaired, self-absorbed dick, but a lying, betraying kidnapper as well?

tbc


	9. Letters

**Title:** Finish my Sentences

**Summary:**When an unwelcome visitor returns to the Upper East, she brings along her Louis Vuitton luggage full of devious scams and schemes. This time, she's not only aimed at Serena, but the whole lot of the Constance upperclassmen. Only two people are scandalous enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can these two work through their differences when they find out that said visitor is more dangerous than she seems? Chuck/Blair; various other pairings. Set after 2.16.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own any characters.

**Rating:** PG-13; possible to have one or two M-rated chapters.

**Author's Note:** This is a shorter chapter, slightly filler, but has some important story-developing parts. My reviews are slowing and stuff so I'm not sure if people are losing interest in the story...or what...anyway, reviews are always loved.

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

* * *

**IX. Letters**

Her veins surged with anger. Her eyes bulged with fury. He'd done this on purpose, she was sure. It was some sick way of getting back at her. He had sent her on a wild-goose chase just so he could laugh about it. How could she have let him trick her right into his trap? She forgot about her pact to avoid him and hailed a cab ordering it to the Palace Hotel.

Storming through the lobby, she stabbed at the elevator buttons willing it to go faster. Maybe she'd catch him in the act. Maybe he'd been hiding Eric in his hotel room all along. She couldn't wait to call him out.

The elevator doors slid open slowly. The journey from the first to the 18th was the longest elevator ride she'd ever been on. The elevator seemed to rise inch by inch, as if taunting her. When she finally reached her destination, the doors seemed to mock her, refusing to open until the elevator was finally in place.

She charged down the hallway. She pulled a fist out from her coat pocket, prepared to knock heavily on his door before she caught herself. Instead, she pressed her ear quietly to the door trying to hear any signs indicating that her accusation was, indeed, correct. And she got her proof.

"What do you mean you can't find Eric's exact location?" Chuck seemed to be screaming at someone, probably into his cell phone.

Her urgency pushed all of her brain's skeptical thoughts away and forced her to pound on the door. It was a loud, hurried pounding, and soon, she heard an "oh, shit" and footsteps towards the door.

Chuck opened the door then seem to freeze at the sight of Blair standing there, hands on her hips and a look of rage cast upon her face.

Then he regained his ability to speak, "Blair?"

She shot him a nasty look, "Do you remember a conversation like this? Let's fuck Blair over so she looks like a complete idiot! Won't that be funny?"

Chuck's eyebrows knit together, confused, "What are you―"

Blair cut him off, "Oh, while we're at it, why don't we get Serena worried sick? Because that would be _hysterical._"

"Seriously, Blair, what―"

"You're a fucking asshole, Bass. I knew you were a dick, but I never thought you would sink as low as to pull a kidnap. I can't even think of one logical reason that you'd actually help Georgina. I thought you liked Eric!" Acidic words tumbled out of Blair's mouth.

Chuck's expression changed from one of confusion to one of disbelief, "You think that I'm―"

As always, Blair refused to let him finish his sentence and proceeded to scream, "You lying, betraying son-of-a-bitch. I hope you rot in hell. And I hope you tell Serena that Eric is okay. She's been so worried; she's thinking of taping up _Missing Child_ signs. And here you are laughing about it."

Chuck remained silent.

"Answer me!" Blair cried, angered by his silence.

"I would if you'd let me," Chuck replied.

"Fine," Blair agreed solemnly.

"I have no―"

"I don't understand how you could have done this, though. I thought you were trying to help!" Blair cut in once more.

Chuck through his hands up in frustration, "Goddammit, let me finish the sentence!"

Blair shot him a glare but stopped talking.

"I have no fucking idea about what you are saying. I _am_ trying to help. I have no idea where Eric is! If I knew, I wouldn't be frantically on the phone with Mike twenty-four seven. I don't know where this ridiculous assumption is coming from, but you need to calm the fuck down," Chuck spoke in a calm and collected manner. He was, after all, Chuck Bass.

Blair looked flustered, "Don't deny it. I have proof."

"Oh really?" Chuck challenged, "And where exactly is this so-called proof?"

"Here," Blair replied, pulling the note out of her Gucci handbag, pointing at it.

"What?" Chuck grabbed the note from her, putting it in front of his face so he could read it in detail.

"See? Don't try and act innocent," Blair shot at him.

Chuck was silent again, scanning the note intently.

"Blair…" he began.

"Oh, so now you're going to lie some more."

"No! I'm trying to explain to you what this note says!" Chuck cried in frustration.

"It says you took Eric to apartment 163 somewhere. I'm not mentally retarded," Blair barked at him, taking the note from him.

"It says CB," Chuck said slowly, "as in Carter Baizen."

Blair froze and read the note over once more. He was right; it only read CB, not Chuck Bass. She gasped; Eric wasn't safe, the nightmare wasn't over.

Blair crossed her arms over her chest; she was extremely embarrassed. She had come over and screamed at Chuck at the top of her lungs, just to find that her accusations were all wrong and that she was just paranoid.

"Sorry," she murmured unapologetically. It was the best she could do given the circumstances.

Chuck shot another withering glare at her, "Hey, no of course, when something goes wrong, feel free to blame me, as per usual," he replied with heavy sarcasm.

"I said I was sorry," Blair hissed.

"Well, I didn't say I accepted your apology and I don't," Chuck bit back.

Blair huffed angrily, "Then I take back my apology and I'm leaving."

Blair stormed out of the room, too angry to notice the flashing clues in the note.

**…**

Chuck paced his room. Blair could be a bitch at time and he knew that. But in this situation, she probably was right; his initials were on the paper, besides even he knew he wasn't trustworthy.

Still, she didn't have to outright accuse him like that. There could have been subtler ways to handle that situation. However, Chuck couldn't forget the note he had read, and had spent the last couple of hours trying to piece clues together.

He needed the note. He needed to physically see the note.

Reluctantly, he picked up his phone and dialed Blair.

"Hello?" she answered absent-mindedly; the fact that she had even picked up the phone led him to believe that she hadn't looked at the caller ID.

"It's Chuck," he informed her, continuing before he had a chance to hang up, "I need to see the note again. We need to do this for Eric."

There was no answer for about five seconds. Chuck thought maybe she had hung up.

Finally, she muttered back quietly, "Fine."

_Click._

**…**

They sat huddled on Chuck's bed.

"T-u-c," Chuck spelled out, "That could stand for a lot of things."

"Tuscany," Blair scowled.

Chuck flushed. Would that part of his life ever be left behind him? He chose to ignore the comment, rather than address it, because it would have led to an argument which was something neither of them could handle at the moment.

"There is Tus, Iran," Blair replied thoughtfully.

"T-u-c, Blair, not t-u-s," Chuck responded, but jotted the note down onto the notebook sitting beside them.

"How about Tuckahoe? Aren't there a lot of Tuckahoes?," Blair suggested.

Chuck shook his head, "Nah, I don't think that's it..."

Blair shot him a look, "Maybe because some of us aren't thinking and are forcing the other person to do all of the work."

"I'm not helping?" Chuck replied scornfully, "Maybe if your suggestions weren't all bullshit, we'd be getting somewhere."

Blair glared at him forcefully, "Do you want my help or not?"

Chuck muttered unrecognizable sayings under his breath, but didn't say him aloud, knowing full well he'd never be able to accomplish anything without Blair.

Suddenly, it clicked.

"Arizona!" he shouted.

Blair looked at him as if he'd grown three heads, then responded slowly like she was talking to a special education child, "Arizona starts with an _a,_ Chuck."

"No! Tucson, Arizona!" Chuck cried.

Blair nodded slowly, "That's a possibility, I guess."

"No! It's exactly where he is. Mike says he knows that they've been keeping him somewhere in Arizona. They were able to be tracked all the way to Arizona, but they lost them after the airport. But the note definitely means Tucson!" Chuck replied excitedly.

Blair's taunting face turned upwards into somewhat of a smile, "Oh my God. A clue. We have a clue."

"I'll get Mike to find all the tenants in apartments 163 of every apartment building in Tucson. This is perfect," Chuck pulled his phone out right away to dial.

He spoke on the phone quietly and precisely. Blair hadn't felt anything until now, watching his determined face relay directions to his PI. He was so stern, so serious, so protective of Eric. It wasn't until then that Blair felt that nauseating feeling of desire again. He was nothing like the person Blair ever dreamed would satisfy her, but somehow she wasn't ready to let him go.

**…**

They filed into the plane one at a time.

Blair and Chuck had felt that Serena and Nate should come along. Serena, because she was Eric's brother and she needed to be there. Nate, because he was strong and most likely could beat up Carter, if ever the need should arise.

"So," Blair muttered, lightening the mood. They had no idea what shape Eric would be in when they got there, but they had a feeling it wasn't going to be good.

"He's okay. He'll be okay," Serena muttered over and over again.

Nate rubbed her back soothingly, "He will, I promise."

Blair retched at the sight of her ex and her best friend being so friendly. She looked away, groaning in disgust.

"You okay?" Chuck asked. But it was uncomfortable, not polite like it would have been before.

"I'm fine," Blair replied, looking out the window.

The cities' massive sky-scrapers seemed to shrink, turning smaller and smaller until they were like little dollhouses. It brought back memories of the first grade, when Blair had finally decided to accept Serena as her best friend. They played dolls together until the day grew old and the night young. But they were childish then. Juvenile, innocent, full of adventure, fun, and excitement. Even though the non-judging breakfast club was together again, Blair realized, nothing was the same, nor would it ever be.

tbc


	10. Relief

**Title:** Finish my Sentences

**Summary:** When an unwelcome visitor returns to the Upper East, she brings along her Louis Vuitton luggage full of devious scams and schemes. This time, she's not only aimed at Serena, but the whole lot of the Constance upperclassmen. Only two people are scandalous enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can these two work through their differences when they find out that said visitor is more dangerous than she seems? Chuck/Blair; various other pairings. Set after 2.16.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own any characters.

**Rating:** PG-13; possible to have one or two M-rated chapters.

**Author's Note:** Okay! Wow. I really haven't been updating so I do apologize. Reviews are also dwindling...I'm not sure if this is because they're losing interest or what's going on... Oh well. Anyway, here's the next chapter, chapter 10! We're halfway through (: As always, I enjoy every review. If anyone hasn't seen the 2.18 promos, watch 'em! They're fabulous. Ask Abby, she'll quote the whole thing to you. Actually, she does not offer quoting services, so I take back the offer, but what she will do is amazingly beta!

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

* * *

**X. Relief**

The plane's engine roared to life, springing forward, sending the four passengers back into their seats. It rose higher and higher, piercing through the fluffy white clouds, until it finally leveled off. The humming of the plane was alluring, hypnotic even. Soon, Blair was fast asleep.

Chuck watched Blair intently. She would draw in a small breath, and then let it out through her mouth. Her hand curled in a fist around the airplane blanket, pulling it up against her to maintain warmth. Her eyelids fluttered and her eyes were half-mast, not quite open, but not closed, either.

It was like…how could he put it in words? It was like a mouse that had a huge chunk of cheese sitting in front of it. But in order to reach the cheese, the mouse would have to travel a series of death traps. He was the mouse, Blair was the cheese, and every single problem they had were the rows and rows of mouse traps, ready to destroy at any moment.

His eyes flickered to Serena and Nate. Her head was buried deep in his shoulder, and his arm was around her waist, with his head resting on her hair. They were the kind of people that Chuck had been jealous of all his life. They didn't have a care in the world; no matter the situation, they always managed to see the positivity. They were glass half-full kind of people.

Then there were people like him and Blair. They always saw flaw, even in the most perfect things and situations, there was always a mistake that could be fixed. Nothing would ever be good enough.

Blair was completely asleep. A stray strand of hair fell into her eyes. Chuck watched the strand dance in front of her face, to the rhythm of her breaths. Unconsciously, he moved towards her, prepared to tuck the hair behind her ear. But it wasn't like that anymore. He couldn't touch her. He held his breath as he lightly hooked the chocolate-colored curl behind her ear. He didn't release the breath as his finger gently grazed her cheek as he pulled away from her.

It was just too damn dangerous.

**…**

Tucson was hot. Burning was more like it. The ground seemed to sizzle as they walked across the parking lot to their car. Men wore no shirts, whether they had the abs to go shirtless or not. Women wore even less in skimpy midriffs and tiny shorts, whether they were fifteen or fifty.

"God, put some clothes on," Blair scowled at the offensively dressed people of Arizona.

"Blair, I think it's a little too hot to wear them anymore," Serena explained, then laughed mischievously, "Now I have an excuse to whip out the short-shorts."

Blair rolled her eyes, "Not me. I'm not a skank."

Serena snickered, "At least I won't be sweating bullets."

Blair shot Serena a scowl. It was true that weather wasn't exactly comfortable. But they were here on a mission, and nothing could distract Blair.

"Let's get to the hotel first," Chuck instructed, "Then we'll start off at the first two apartments. We'll do the rest tomorrow, because it'll be nighttime after we get the first two done."

Nate, who had been questionably silent, asked a question, "When do we eat?"

Serena's cackle filled the air, and Blair and Chuck glared at Nate. Chuck's eyes accidently caught Blair's, and for a second, there was a painful silence as the two stayed staring uncomfortably at each other. Blair broke away first. Chuck looked at the ground, coughing, trying to rid himself of the inappropriate thoughts that had crossed his mind.

**…**

Though the group had been laughs and jokes for the beginning of the trip, their search was now coming up empty, and the amusement was gone. They were sure Eric was in Tucson, and they couldn't afford to be wrong.

The first apartment had been a disappointment. A balding man had come to the door, dressed in a wife beater that didn't cover any of his massive and hairy stomach ("I'm going to barf up my lunch," Blair had informed them), told them that the residence belonged to Robert "Bob" and Hilda Sorensen, and had for the past twenty years. He told them he'd never heard of a Georgina Sparks.

The second apartment lobby was dim and seemed to lack air conditioning. The jumpy, neurotic doorman had looked at them as if they were psychotic, all of them dressed head-to-toe in designer stepping into the lobby of a two-star, run-down complex.

"Who you lookin' for?" The man at the counter asked, picking his teeth with a toothpick.

Blair grimaced, "The residents of apartment 163, please?"

"I'm sorry. Apartment 163 no longer exists. It was destroyed with the fire five years ago," the man informed them.

Chuck shot him a quizzical look, "Are you sure?"

"I've been working here for fifteen years. I'm positive."

"Do you know who I am?" Chuck asked, stepping forward, "If you do, then I suggest you let me see the apartment."

The man spit onto the floor, "I have no idea who the hell you are. And I don't give a damn."

"I'm Chuck Bass."

The man rolled his eyes, "And I'm Jones Norris. Does that mean anything to you?"

Chuck hissed, "Let me see the apartment now."

The man let out a low chuckle, "Fine."

He led them up a winding staircase to the first apartment room on their left. He pulled out a jangling set of keys, taking about five minutes to determine which key was the correct one. He slid the key into the doorknob, jiggling it a little. The door opened with a clang. The group peeked into the room; the man hadn't been lying. The room was in shambles, with crumbling pieces of debris and ash lying around.

They excused themselves from the building, heading back towards their hotel. They had worked hard for one day. But coming up empty-handed, none of them were satisfied.

"Chuck, you promised," Serena said as they hailed a cab.

"Serena, I'll find him," Chuck replied.

Serena shot him a doubtful look, but nodded shortly as Chuck returned an earnest look.

If only Chuck were positive that he could keep that promise.

**…**

Somehow the sleeping arrangements resulted in Blair and Chuck in one room. And even though they'd spent more than their share of nights together, the heat, the uncomfortable atmosphere, and the sexual tension created an awkward aura in the air.

"Can I turn out the lights?" Blair asked cautiously as she slipped into bed. How had two of the closest friends turned into such self-conscious, awkward people around each other?

"Yeah," Chuck agreed, nodding shortly. He managed to keep his eyes away from Blair. That nightgown, it was killing him. How had he agreed to stay in the same room as Blair just so Nate could spend time with Serena?

Soon darkness enveloped them, and he could feel himself falling, falling, sinking into the security of the blackness.

He tossed and turned in his bed. So many questions raced through his mind. It was impossible to sleep.

However, as he stared into the emptiness, counting Blair's rhythmic breaths, he managed to finally escape into slumber.

**…**

The following day seemed even hotter than the previous one if that were possible.

"We could totally fry eggs on the sidewalk," Nate kidded as they headed out for another day of hard work.

Even Serena didn't laugh this time. The joke was wearing thin. Every single one of them wore a grim expression on their face. If Eric wasn't found by the end of today…

Blair pulled out her phone, reading the sheet Chuck had printed out. She entered the third address on the keypad.

Serena waved her arm, hailing a taxi. A yellow cab slowed in front of them, kicking up dust as it skidded to a stop.

"Can you take us to Lovell Street?" Blair asked, as she slid into the front seat.

The taxi driver nodded twice.

They travelled on a gravel road that tossed them with every pebble they hit; each time, Serena would let out an uncomfortable giggle, but even she was beginning to break down. When Blair turned around to look at her, she caught tears glinting in Serena's eyes.

"We're here," the driver informed the group, pointing to the meter and holding out his free hand for the money.

Chuck handed him a few crisp bills as the rest of them stepped out. Blair felt an uncomfortable, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. This was the place. She knew it.

Blair watched the taxi speed away. It was as if he was trying to get away from there as fast as possible.

They stepped into the shabby lobby. This apartment was nothing like the other two they had visited the day prior. This apartment was flooded with light, so bright, and seemed to be completely deserted.

"Hello?" Serena called into the spacious lobby.

No one answered.

Serena stepped forward, peeking up the stairway. It seemed like there was something up there. A muffled sob was heard.

Serena and Nate sped forward, dashing up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Chuck and Blair lagged behind, scared of what could be upstairs.

Serena pounded at the door of apartment 163. The cries grew slightly louder. Serena groaned as she tried to force the door open. It was locked. Nate jiggled the knob, attempting to help her. It was no use. Whoever, or whatever, was inside was trapped.

Chuck pulled out a small device.

"What is that?" Serena asked, stepping back to allow Chuck a try at the doorknob.

"It helps when you have a PI. He's got stuff from the CIA," he replied, sticking the tool into the keyhole, twisting it.

The door popped open. Everyone gasped, pushing through the door.

Serena eye's caught sight of the frail body on the floor and she let out a mangled, terrified scream.

There lay Eric on the ground panting and gasping, pawing at the floor beneath him. He was an emaciated wreck, skinny to the point of scary, eyes glazed over with tears streaming down his cheeks.

**…**

Chuck's fingers shook as he dialed 911. Nervousness wasn't something he was used to and he kept taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

"This is Chuck Bass. We're at apartment 163 on Lovell Street. We need an ambulance."

"Sir? Speak slower, please," the deep voice at the end of the phone growled back in response.

"I. Am. Speaking. Slowly," Chuck hissed, "We need an ambulance at apartment 163 on Lovell Street."

"Excuse me? You're breaking up a little. Could you repeat where you are?" the man's voice flooded the speaker of his phone.

Groaning, Chuck stepped into the hallway to retrieve a better signal, "Apartment 163 on Lovell Street!" he cried.

"Oh, there, that's better," the man replied, "We'll send an ambulance promptly."

Chuck snapped his phone shut. His eyes drifted to Blair and Serena, crowding around Eric, pushing his face away from his face, feeding him what little food they had in their bags.

"Eric, come on, what's wrong?" Serena asked, trying to get his limp, unresponsive body to drink some of the water she had brought with her. Chuck eyed the bottle thirstily; it was still ice-cold, he could tell by the droplets of water dripping onto the floor.

Blair rubbed his back, sobbing, "Serena, he's burning up."

Serena nodded, taking the water bottle and drenching his flaming face with the water. Eric sputtered a little on impact, wiping the water away with a quick flick of his wrist. But he returned to his lifeless position almost as quickly as he had moved. Serena shook him a little, gently, but it was apparent he wasn't going to react again.

Nate, who had been scouring the apartment for details, called from down the hallway, "Hey! Guys, there's something over here."

Serena shifted her arm so it was balancing all of Eric's weight, "Blair, you go, I'll stay and watch Eric."

Blair and Chuck scurried out of the apartment room, terrified, but eager, to see what Nate had found.

_Serena―_

_Guess you and your friends found us, huh? Unfortunately, we're not here to take the blame. But you know I've always loved Eric like a little brother, so I hope he's okay at least. Of course, we're as long gone as your virginity is._

_And __to__ the rest of you, well thanks for the visit._

_Love,_

_Me_

tbc


	11. Chances

**Title:** Finish my Sentences

**Summary:** When an unwelcome visitor returns to the Upper East, she brings along her Louis Vuitton luggage full of devious scams and schemes. This time, she's not only aimed at Serena, but the whole lot of the Constance upperclassmen. Only two people are scandalous enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can these two work through their differences when they find out that said visitor is more dangerous than she seems? Chuck/Blair; various other pairings. Set after 2.16.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own any characters.

**Rating:** PG-13; possible to have one or two M-rated chapters.

**Author's Note:** Okay, I guess I can't abandon this story because I just love it a little too much. A little unhealthily, if you ask me. Anyway, Abby, Najet, and Jackie all kick ass. I greatly appreciate feedback because it's what keeps me going and what gives me a little insight on what changes need to be made. Two updates in two days?! That's a record. Someone call The Guiness Book, please.

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

* * *

**XI. Chances**

Chuck knew hospitals all too well. He had seen his own two parents splayed lifelessly in the cheap, iron beds-on-wheels. He had seen both of his parents lives slip away slowly and painfully in hospitals. When Chuck was younger, and Blair managed to rope him into a game of Truth or Dare, he'd always answered the question "What are you afraid of?" with a nonchalant, "Nothing. I'm Chuck Bass."

But as he stayed staring at the white walls that seemed to swallow him, he realized that he'd been lying all this time. His greatest fear was of hospitals.

True, he hadn't seen Misty die, but somehow, he could remember her increasingly rapid breathing, growing more urgent with every intake, until finally it stopped. Everything stopped.

Then there was Bart. His father had been nothing but a shambled wreck of a man by the time Chuck had gotten to that hospital. Chuck refused to see the man he so dearly idolized in bed, turning into nothing but a pool of blood and scraps of skin.

And now there was Eric. Sure the doctors reassured him that in time, Eric would be back to normal. Sure he could tell, just by looking, that the nutrients the doctors had fed to Eric were improving his condition greatly. But Chuck knew hospitals, and the one thing he was certain was that nothing good ever came out of them.

**…**

Blair rapped lightly on Eric's door.

"Come in," Eric replied faintly. His voice was scratchy, his hair standing on end, and his eyes were bloodshot.

"How are you feeling?" Blair asked meticulously, careful not to disrupt his state of rest. She pushed a lock of his blonde-with-black-roots hair back and gave him a wary smile.

"I'm doing better, I guess," Eric shrugged, "I can't really see anything that well and I'm pretty much starving."

"Thank God you're okay," Blair replied, "I'll go send the nurse for some food. You look like you need it." She let out a little laugh, trying to cover the fact that he had lost somewhere in the ballpark of twenty pounds since his disappearance.

"I just wish I didn't have to eat hospital food," Eric said, looking wistfully at the platter of inedible substances that had just been delivered.

"Hey, if you don't tell anyone," Blair said, leaning in close, "I'll sneak you in some crème brulee for desert. They've got a fantastic bakery just five minutes from here."

Eric's eyes lit up, "Really? You're a God."

He coughed a couple of times, and then apologized, "Sorry."

Blair didn't respond for a couple of minutes, and the two stayed staring at the walls and floors uncomfortably, both knowing what Blair was trying to get at, both not wanting to be the first one to say it.

"Eric…" Blair began, trying to force herself to somehow put the horrible situation into words.

"Honestly, Blair, I can't answer you. I can't remember anything that's happened for the past week, at least. I haven't really tried to think of anything further back than that," Eric explained gently, knowing that Blair was trying to figure out the severity of the events that had occurred. "I know that there was a guy and a girl; I'm assuming Georgina and Carter. I know they had me somewhere, they took me to that horrible apartment, and they dropped by and fed me some kind of pill every day. I think the doctor says that's why I can't remember anything, because I'm so drugged up."

Blair smiled a sad smile, "I really hope you get better Eric. I'm counting on my little brother to fight this out."

Eric let out a little laugh, "And I'm counting on my big sis not to cry right now, because frankly, I don't think I can take any more emotion."

And it was true. Lily had been by earlier, flying all the way from New York on the first flight. She'd ridden economy, and by the time she got to the hospital she was a wreck of tears, anger, and annoyance.

Serena hadn't contained herself much either. Just when they thought she had about cried out everything that she had in her, she started on a fresh batch of tears and had to be escorted out by a nurse. Eric, it seemed, was the least affected by everything that had happened.

"Don't worry. I'm Blair Waldorf. I'd rather wear Crocs than cry," Blair sent him another smile, "But don't hold me to that."

Eric moved in to hug Blair. She returned the hug and kissed his forehead, whispering, "By the way, when you're all better, we're going to get those roots fixed."

**…**

Chuck watched Blair plant a soft kiss on Eric. It was so maternal, it hurt his heart. As she stepped away from the bed, he ducked into the closest room so she wouldn't catch him watching them. After she left, Chuck let himself into the dimly lit hospital room, trying not to shudder at the many memories that flooded back to him. This was for Eric, he told himself. He had to be strong for Eric. That was the least he could do.

"Hey, man," Chuck attempted a lopsided grin as he sat on the plastic chair next to Eric's bed.

"Chuck," Eric greeted with a nod, "How are you?"

Chuck let out a real laugh this time, "How am I? You're the one that's been locked in a hell-hole for God knows how long and you ask me how I am?"

Eric shrugged, "I'm actually fine. The food and water's really been helping me, and I feel a lot better now. What about you?"

"I'm good," Chuck responded slowly, not clear on the question that was being asked.

"I mean with Blair. I saw you watching her," Eric called him out.

Chuck looked away. There were so many ways to answer his question, but there was only one truth. But, true to form, Chuck refused to allow himself to tell the truth.

"We're fine," he bluffed, "We're friends, I think."

"Are you sure?" Eric asked quizzically, raising his eyebrow in a way that made Chuck think that Eric knew something that he didn't.

"Yeah," Chuck's one-word answers seemed to suffice, only because Eric was the kind of person that let things be. When Eric caught the uncomfortable look on Chuck's face, he let it go. Eric was the kind of person that didn't see a point in pressing an issue that would never be resolved.

"So you're good?" Chuck asked, ruffling his hair.

"You know…" Eric let out a small Chuck-like smirk, "It's hard to believe that you were trying to get me to smoke hash just a couple of months ago."

Chuck smiled in spite of himself, "I'd like to say I've changed, but I really haven't."

**…**

The sun shone brightly from the un-curtained windows of the hospital waiting room. Blair woke quietly, rubbing her eyes. Serena and Nate were intertwined, and Nate's shirt was damp from Serena's tears. Her eyes drifted to Chuck's figure, and jumped slightly when she realized that he wasn't asleep, merely smoking what could only be some kind of expensive, illegal drug.

"You're up," Blair stated the obvious, unable to say anything else.

"Yeah, couldn't sleep," Chuck replied, taking a long inhale into the green tube.

"Must you smoke in a hospital?" Blair shot at him in a muted whisper, so she wouldn't disrupt Serena and Nate's sleep.

"It's not even a cigarette; it's herbal. Made from plants. Au natural," Chuck convinced, taking another drag.

"Either way you'll die early," Blair informed him.

"We're all going to die. Why not speed up the process?" Chuck's eyes glazed over and he seemed to be staring intently at her, as if he was looking into her soul.

She turned away uncomfortably. Why did she still feel attracted to him? They were over. Done. Finished.

A rush of emotions washed over her, sending her tumbling back into her chair. She stood up unsteadily, "I'm sorry. I have to go."

Chuck didn't respond.

**…**

This definitely ranked in the top ten most embarrassing moments of her life. As Blair stared at Eric, then back to Chuck, then again back to Eric, her face flushed crimson.

"Eric. Why did you ask for us to come here?" Chuck beat her to the punch.

"Because you guys have unresolved problems?" Eric attempted feebly, curling into a tighter ball to defend himself if Chuck or Blair were to get physical about it. "And because gay guys are more perceptive to detail?"

"Eric, we're fine. We're mutual," Blair ran her eyes disapprovingly up Chuck's figure, "friends. Sort of, at least."

"I'm not ten. I know you guys are having major problems. Can you two just sit down and talk about it?"

They both eyed the sick boy warily. They at least owed it to him to give him an explanation. After all, he'd gone through a lot of trouble because of all of them.

"Fine―" Chuck began.

"Actually, I'll start," Blair cut in. "It goes like this. Georgina sends crazy notes, Chuck helps me solve the mystery; Chuck jumps me, then Chuck bails, as usual. Then we find out you're gone, then somehow we get roped together again."

"I didn't bail, Blair," Chuck insisted, "I just said I wasn't ready."

"You're never going to be ready. Face the facts, Bass," Blair spat, "You're not a commitment type of guy, and I'm not a sleep around type of girl. Aside from that we're incredibly similar, but maybe that's exactly what's keeping us apart."

Eric sat on the bed, eyes darting from Blair to Chuck, then back to Blair, intrigued by the argument.

"I think it's because you don't know spontaneity. Everything has to be so planned, so precise. Maybe one time, you could just let nature take its own route. Let things be," Chuck replied, matter-of-factly.

"You're so unbelievably stoned out of your mind. You don't know what the hell you're talking about. So just fuck off," Blair hissed at him, letting her fury take over her collectiveness.

"Blair, why won't you just try to work things out?" Eric called. They both sent him glares and he apologized, returning to his role as the innocent bystander.

"A chance, Blair, that's all I want. Can you at least give me that?" Chuck managed to choke out. Begging was something that was so unnatural that he felt clammy as he spoke.

Blair seemed to soften. To the untrained eye, it looked as if she had maintained the scowl throughout the whole time, but Chuck could tell that he cracked her façade, if only for a second.

As Blair opened her mouth to speak, Chuck felt his hands shake in anticipation to her answer.

"No, I can't."

tbc


	12. Darkness

**Title:** Finish my Sentences

**Summary:** When an unwelcome visitor returns to the Upper East, she brings along her Louis Vuitton luggage full of devious scams and schemes. This time, she's not only aimed at Serena, but the whole lot of the Constance upperclassmen. Only two people are scandalous enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can these two work through their differences when they find out that said visitor is more dangerous than she seems? Chuck/Blair; various other pairings. Set after 2.16.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own any characters.

**Rating:** PG-13; possible to have one or two M-rated chapters.

**Author's Note:** Longest. Chapter. Ever. Longest that I've ever written, actually. Isn't that crazy? It's a little filler, I'm not going to lie, but that's because I'm warning you, there's some major drama that's about to happen. Don't want to give anything away, so I'm not going to say anymore. Thanks for all the reviews, guys! Keep it up (: I'm so so sorry it's taken this long to update... anyway, Abby. Rocks. Read. Her. Story.

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

* * *

**XII. Darkness**

She ran. She ran like hell. Out of sight, out of mind, she repeated to herself. If she got away fast enough, she hoped she would escape the hypnotic wrath that was Chuck Bass. It was as if he knew he had her in the palm of his hand, following every command that he ordered. But she was no longer Blair Waldorf the puppet. Today was a new day, and she was determined to start fresh. If only she could erase Chuck's horrific facial expression as she told him another chance was out of the question.

It shouldn't have been this hard. Saying no to Chuck should have been as easy as saying no to a homeless man asking for change. But as Blair stood in the waiting room, shaking Serena awake, she felt the pang in her heart that she'd felt many times before. It was somewhat a mix between regret and fear. And she knew the cause of her discomfort was named Chuck Bass.

"Serena!" Blair whispered, "We're leaving! Now."

Serena shook her head sleepily, "No, I want to stay here."

Blair pulled Serena to her feet, "No, we have to leave. Now."

Serena rubbed at her bleary eyes and asked confusedly, "Why? I have to stay here for Eric. Can I just meet you later? Besides, Nate'll be confused if I'm not here when he wakes up."

"I think this situation is a little more important than," Blair eyed Nate with disgust, "my ex-boyfriend. Seriously, I'll explain in the car. Can we just leave? Please?"

Taking note of Blair's trembling voice and quivering lip, Serena stood up hesitantly, pulling a jacket on, "Okay. Fine."

Blair practically yanked Serena out the door as she attempted to keep up with Blair, who was speeding out of the main entrance.

"What's going on, Blair?" Serena asked as they walked outside. She winced as the sunlight hit her full force and she squinted, holding up a hand to block her eyes from becoming blinded.

"I just had to get out of there," Blair explained vaguely, waving her hand into the road, flagging a taxi.

Serena scoffed, "Care to elaborate? I remember when you dragged me out of my wonderful sleep you promised you'd tell me what was going on. I can very well just leave you here."

Blair scowled, "No, you can't."

"Answer my question!" Serena insisted at Blair's evasiveness. Though Blair was never a very open person, she usually didn't keep anything from Serena, which was a privilege she had received when Blair appointed her as best friend many years ago.

"It was just getting uncomfortable in there," Blair eluded the question, "And I figured Mother would be worried."

Even Serena let out a chuckle to that excuse, "Please, Blair, your mom hasn't cared where the hell you were since you were old enough to stop breastfeeding. So pretty much since you were three months old?"

"I had to get away from him, okay?" Blair hissed as a taxi slid in front of them, creating a blur of yellow.

"What?" Serena yelled over the rev of the engine.

Blair pointedly ignored her as she directed the driver to her penthouse. Her head whipped around at the sound of Serena's cell phone ringing, but as she leaned over to check the caller, her jaw clenched shut.

"Hey," Serena greeted, "Is Eric okay?"

His distinct voice filtered through the tiny speaker, flooding not only the empty silence of the car ride, but Blair's entire brain. She could hear his sultry voice growling and her stomach turned.

"Yeah, I'm with Blair. She practically Chris Brown-ed me to leave," Serena snickered.

Blair tried so hard to block his voice out, focusing on the cab driver's incessant chewing of tobacco. Even the juicy slurps of the tobacco juice seemed more appealing than Chuck Bass' laugh.

"No, we're heading to her house, what do you need?" Serena queried, pulling a strand of blonde hair and twirling it around her finger. Blair had the sudden urge to strangle Serena with a lock of her own hair.

"Yeah, I'll let you know if I get any more," Serena said reassuringly, "Call me when Eric wakes up."

As she slid her phone shut, Blair raised an eyebrow, "Who were you talking to?" she said, feigning innocence.

Serena rolled her eyes, "I thought you two were over this."

Blair nodded silently, glancing out her window at the skyscrapers flying by her, "Yeah, we're over."

**…**

The weed was finally starting to wear off, and the aching in his stomach was starting to set in. She had said no. After everything they'd been through, she could have at least had the decency to give him a chance. She'd even gotten a "please" from him, something almost no one in the Upper East Side could say.

The waiting room seemed bigger now, vacant and terrifying at the same time. Nate let out a soft snore, flipping his head to his other shoulder.

Chuck slid into the seat next to him. It was just him and Nate now. Just like always. Suddenly, Nate seemed to be grabbing him, pulling him closer, into what seemed to be an embrace. Chuck almost let out a laugh when Nate moaned a soft, "Serena". But Nate started to grope him and he jumped back.

"Nathaniel," Chuck hissed, "It's me. Stop feeling me up."

Nate's eyes shot open as he surveyed his surroundings, "Chuck? I thought you were…" his voice trailed off, eyes widening further when he realized he'd just been hugging his best friend, "Dude! I didn't― I thought―"

Chuck just smirked, "Nah, it's fine. I'm irresistible to both sexes. I get it a lot."

Nate's flushed face began to turn back to normal color as he punched Chuck's upper arm, "Sorry, I wouldn't be attracted to you even if I were gay. I think it's got to do with the pastels. I'd never date a pastel-wearer."

Chuck shook his head, "Oh, Nathaniel. So naïve."

"So where _is_ Serena?" Nate asked, cocking his head, scanning the room.

"She left," Chuck clarified for him.

"What about…" Nate asked, not sure if could finish the sentence.

"She left, too," Chuck informed, but even Nate noticed that he'd said it differently than he had for Serena. Even Nate could hear the underlying regret in his three words.

"You guys…?" Nate shot Chuck a quizzical look.

"I'm Chuck, she's Blair. End of story," Chuck replied nonchalantly, looking away before Nate could shoot him another knowing glance.

**…**

Rumors flew as Chuck, Serena, Eric, Nate, and Blair arrived at school. Clearly Penelope, Iz, and Hazel hadn't been keeping their mouths shut since they'd left. Of course Blair was a step ahead of them and had fed them lie after lie to ensure that the truth would never be revealed.

"Blair!" the girls cooed as she arrived, showering her with compliments and hugs.

"Your hair looks amazing! Were you gone so long because you were getting it done?" Hazel asked, eyeing Blair's perfect curls.

"No," Blair replied warily. The day already seemed to drag and she had just gotten there.

"Where were you then?" Penelope asked, leaning in, as if Blair contained all the answers, which in a way, was true.

"Just a little trip," Blair answered, noticing the girls shooting looks at each other. Then with more venom, she added, "But according to the rumors I've heard, apparently that wasn't where I was at all."

"No! Blair, we didn't do it," Iz lied, shooting Blair a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah, okay," Blair rolled her eyes, voice oozing sarcasm, "And I didn't tell everyone that Hazel's hooking up with a married guy."

Hazel's eyes widened with horror, but Blair stepped away from the group, as she saw Serena rushing towards her.

"I…got…another one," Serena told her, panting, pulling out a familiarly colored piece of paper out of her coat pocket.

"No," Blair said, "No, no, no, no."

"Worse part is that I have no idea what this one says," Serena gasped, pulling up to a nearby table.

Blair flattened the sheet of paper onto the granite tabletop, instructing Serena to stand in front of her, "Don't let anyone see."

Blair ran her eyes slowly over the note, trying to catch details that weren't there. The note made absolutely no sense.

_Serena―_

_Two words._

_Black Lexus._

_Love, _

_Me_

**…**

"I don't get it," Chuck responded as he, too, read the unsolvable note.

"Should I be…scared?" Serena asked worriedly, "Should I tell Eric to stay home until I stop getting these notes?"

"Georgina never strikes the same place twice," Chuck told her gravely.

"How do you know?" Serena asked suspiciously, glaring at Chuck.

"I may not like the girl, but I know how she works," Chuck replied, staring back down at the cryptic message laying in front of him.

"Let's not worry about this one, until they get worse," Serena told him, trying to look at the situation positively.

Chuck didn't argue. Besides, as he heard Thomas's obnoxious cackle from across the courtyard accompanied by Blair's tinkling giggle, everything swirled in his mind.

**…**

"So, Blair, you ever going to take me up on that offer?" Thomas asked, tossing his blonde curls.

"Hmm?" Blair asked, absentmindedly. She might have been standing next to him, but she hadn't heard or understood a word he had been saying for the past twenty-five minutes and sixteen seconds. Exactly.

"Dinner, remember? I said I'd take you out. You busy Friday?" Thomas asked, draping an arm heavily around her shoulders.

She daintily removed herself from his uncomfortable grip. Before, she would have had a million rejection answers prepared. But that was then, and this was now. Everything was different now, "Yeah. I'd like that."

Thomas's smile lit up his entire face, and Blair cringed. He was so… she couldn't think of an adjective to describe him without using the word Chuck Bass in her description. She simply let out another giggle, trying to ignore the sound of Chuck Bass's growl coming from behind her.

**…**

A month had passed. Since Eric's rescue, a whole long thirty-three long, painful days had passed. And every single one of those thirty-three days included endurance of rumors about Blair and Thomas's steamy relationship and two bottles of alcohol.

So he threw himself into the mystery. Serena received notes daily now, and Chuck made it his mission to solve the case. Besides, if hadn't worked on anything, he would let his brain idle, and somehow, he knew, he'd have to confront his thoughts about Blair. And for Chuck Bass, avoidance was _always _the answer.

"Chuck Bass," he answered his phone.

"Another one," Serena informed, a hint of panic lacing her voice.

"Did it say the same thing?" Chuck asked, pulling out his collection of Serena's previous notes.

"Yep. 'Black Lexus'. What could it mean?" Serena questioned. But Chuck was still empty-handed.

The phone signal began to break a little, "Serena?" Chuck asked.

"Sorry, I have to go. We'll talk later?" Serena told him, as Chuck heard that painful, heart-breaking giggle in the background, and an exclamation of, "Thomas is here!"

Chuck shut his eyes, "Yeah, we'll talk later."

The three bottles of scotch had never looked so desirable.

**…**

The act was driving Blair insane. Not only did Blair have to dull down her vocabulary to one of a fifth-grader's, she had to fake smile and laugh until her face ached and her throat was sore.

"Hey baby," Thomas said sleazily, securing his arm around Blair's waist, but slowly allowing his hands to travel lower.

She spun away from him, "Hey. Let me get my coat and we'll go."

She grabbed her jacket and followed him down into the street. He called a taxi over and instructed him to a bar she'd only heard of.

"Where are we going?" Blair asked, wincing at the falseness in her voice.

Thomas didn't seem to notice, "It's the sick-nasty bar on fifth. You'll love it, they get pretty crazy down there."

Blair almost felt the urge to stand up and yell, "No! I'll hate it! You're a dumb-shit with half a brain, you don't know what the fuck I like." But she suppressed the feeling, merely squeezing his arm and sending him another sickeningly sweet smile.

As they pulled up to the bar, Blair felt her mouth drop in horror. This was the most disgusting bar she'd ever seen, with drunk men and sluts every which direction she turned.

"You love it, right?" Thomas chuckled, pulling her over towards the drinks.

"Yeah, love it," she repeated softly, heart sinking.

The night seemed to pass so slowly, she began to count the ticking of the clock on the wall. Thomas spun by her, gulping down what seemed like his fifteenth shot.

"Whoo! Thomas! Sixteen, baby!" she heard a guy holler. Oh, he was at sixteen.

When he finished, he pounded his chest and gave Blair a slimy smile, as if downing over fifteen shots of tequila was what she looked for in a guy. She retched a little, but maintained her somewhat of a grin.

"Thomas, let's go," Blair said, tugging at his sleeve.

"You go, baby, I'll catch you later," he warbled, pulling his shirt off and pounding the table as two guys shouted, "Eighteen!"

Her head throbbed from the music and her nose was probably permanently damaged from the disgusting smell of the low-class bar. And now she was being ignored by a guy she never really liked in the first place? She'd had more than enough.

"Fine," she hissed, walking out of club.

Outside, the night was silent and dark, and the entire place seemed eerily quiet. Blair looked around for a taxi cab to flag down, but there seemed to be none. She decided to wander further, hoping that there would be one on the next street.

She trudged through the darkness, admiring the blinking neon signs of stores around her. She loved New York City at night. The colors, the lights, the buildings. She noticed everything seemed so much calmer in the night. She noticed that the whole city seemed more beautiful at night. What she failed to notice was the flash of black speeding towards her.

tbc


	13. Helpless

**Title:** Finish my Sentences

**Summary:** When an unwelcome visitor returns to the Upper East, she brings along her Louis Vuitton luggage full of devious scams and schemes. This time, she's not only aimed at Serena, but the whole lot of the Constance upperclassmen. Only two people are scandalous enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can these two work through their differences when they find out that said visitor is more dangerous than she seems? Chuck/Blair; various other pairings. Set after 2.16.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own any characters.

**Rating:** PG-13; possible to have one or two M-rated chapters.

**Author's Note:** Thanks Abby, Jackie, and Najet all for looking this over. And thank you guys for the amazing feedback. Also thanks to _michaela, damnthatmotherchucker, _and _teddy bear_ for your anonymous reviews. They were so sweet; I loved 'em. Anyway, I'm pretty busy this week, so this may be the only update. As always, I love love love reviews.

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

* * *

**XIII. Helpless**

It skidded to a stop with a horrifically loud screech. Even without turning around, Blair's heart skipped a beat, and she froze, too terrified to turn around and face the vehicle. Before she could make up her mind to either run, scream, hide, or play dead, a black figure stepped out of the black…Lexus? And though she'd felt her heart skip a beat moments prior, she now felt like her entire heart had stopped. Had come to a standstill.

There was nothing she could do as the man picked her up and flung her over his shoulder. Then she regained control of herself. She threw herself into fighting him. Her legs thrashed violently, kicking him every place she could find. She tried biting him, but his grip was just too damn tight on her.

"I'd advise you to not make this any harder for you than it already is going to be," the stranger hissed, breathing hot, moist air into her ear.

To prove her stubbornness, she let out a piercing shriek, but his hand immediately clamped over her mouth.

Before she could try any more attacking maneuvers, he tossed her into the car, and she landed with a thud, thumping her head on the window. She looked around, but had no time to react, as her hands were bound together and a blindfold draped over her eyes.

She fought her quivering voice to pull out some kind of forceful, demanding tone, "Georgina, Carter, I know it's you guys. If you don't let me out, I swear to God…"

"You'll do what?" Blair heard Georgina's cacophonous cackle slice through the silent and stillness of the night.

"I'll call the police," Blair said viciously, before realizing the patheticness of calling in the city officials.

"Oh really? And what phone will you be using?" It was Carter's venomous hiss that spoke this time.

She was stumped. But she was Blair Waldorf, and Blair Waldorf never went down without a fight, "Chuck will find me," she retorted before realizing the words that were coming out of her mouth.

Georgina and Carter barked laughs simultaneously, before Georgina manage to choke out, "If Chuck Bass ever comes near you, we'll kill him."

And if Blair had felt frightened earlier, she was now terrified, clutching her bound hands together, hoping to God that he didn't come after her. With that, she almost let out a choked laugh. After all, what did she have to worry about? He would never come looking for her.

**…**

Sleep wasn't an option. In fact, sleep hadn't been an option for the past month. Lately, he'd taken up drinking and staring at his empty hotel room. He alternated between his bottle of scotch and his bottle of vodka, watching the walls swirl and dance before him. He'd been drinking so often that lately, his resistance had skyrocketed, forcing him to down multiple bottles before he was even the slightest bit drunk.

His cell phone jolted on the floor next to him, illuminating the pitch black room with a small, bright screen. He stumbled as he stood up, and dragged himself over to a different corner of the room. He refused to pick up his cell phone.

But the phone rang again. And again. And once more.

Defeated, he let out a forceful sigh, crawling over to it, sliding it open, "What?" he grunted.

"Chuck. Why the fuck aren't you picking up your phone?" Serena hissed.

"What do you want? I'm tired," which was a lie, he was as awake as ever. Serena rarely ever lost her temper, and when she did, it was always something worth hearing.

"The notes," Serena started.

"You called me because you got another note. Just like you have every single day for the past month," Chuck's words dripped with cynicism.

"No! That's exactly it! I didn't get a note today," Serena panted, raising her voice a notch higher.

"So you called me because there is nothing to worry about," Chuck answered sarcastically. But his mind was churning. Did this mean something?

"I don't know," Serena replied, suddenly ashamed, "I just thought…"

"Look, if anything happens that we should be worried about," Chuck thought carefully about his next words, before finally saying, "then I guess you should call me."

Serena was silent for a second before asking, "Chuck, are you drunk?"

He must have drank more than he thought.

**…**

She didn't recognize where they were. With the tiny stream of light filtering through the crack of the curtains, she could see that they were in a lusciously decorated room. Beautiful drapes adorned the windows; a velvet comforter covered the king-sized bed.

She tried to stand up, only to realize that not only were her hands fastened together with actual handcuffs, her feet were bound together with tape. She let out a scream, only to find that she had been gagged. It was like a B-list horror movie, but now that she was the victim, there was nothing laughable about it at all.

She heard whispers erupting from the bathroom, "What are we going to do with her?"

"We'll just leave her here. She'll starve to death."

A male voice, "She's Blair fucking Waldorf. I think people will notice if she's missing."

"Carter, why do you have to be so damn paranoid? We'll leave, it'll work out," Georgina's distinct voice wafted through the cracks of the door.

"You won't leave. You want to stay here because of Chuck," Carter accused with so much force, it suddenly occurred to her that the torture Georgina was putting her through could have been because of Chuck.

"No, I don't," Georgina hissed, but even Blair could hear the falseness in the statement. She slid closer to the door to pick up more of the conversation.

"Prove it," Carter retorted, clearly a challenge. And Georgina always took a challenge.

Wincing, Blair tried to maneuver her body away from the door, knowing what was about to occur.

She heard their kisses; it was like nothing she'd ever heard before. It was a kind of malicious, instinctual, and very sexual, almost forceful kissing. Even on the outside she recognized the urgency in their voices.

"God…Carter, please," she heard Georgina beg. A low grunt came from Carter.

Blair groaned quietly. Not only was she completely immobile due to her bound legs and arms, she was also completely violated. Georgina and Carter were having sex in a bathroom. And Blair had to be a witness.

A scream. An ear-splitting, earth-shattering scream erupted, forcing Blair to tumble backwards, falling onto the carpeted floor with a thud.

Panting. A disappointed sigh. Blair's own heart was racing, even out here, she could tell that the sex was no more than an answer to the challenge. Nothing more. Which meant Carter hadn't been lying when he accused Georgina about having feelings for Chuck. Which meant he was in more danger than he was ready for.

**…**

Chuck breathed a sigh of relief as he woke up. He'd gotten some sleep, which was much improvement. Then his hangover kicked in. Damn. Shit. Fuck. It hurt like hell, it felt like someone was taking a drill and running it straight into his head. But thankfully it was a weekend, which meant two whole days without having to see Blair and her disgustingly obnoxious boy toy.

Fumbling for his phone, he grimaced as the drilling into his head seemed to grow increasingly more painful. Dialing Nate's number, he fell back onto his bed, surrendering to his stinging hangover, "Hello?" a voice answered, cutting cruelly through the silence.

"It's me," Chuck informed.

"Chuck?" a girl's voice asked, "Oh shit," she said, realizing that she'd picked up Nate's phone for him.

He heard shuffling before, "Hello?"

"Nathaniel…do you have anything you want to tell me?" Chuck asked, raising an eyebrow, before lowering it, realizing even that small task hurt so badly it almost brought tears to his eyes.

"Uh, I…ah…" Nate stuttered, trying to figure out a way to cover his mistake, "So what's up?"

Then Chuck heard her laugh, "_Serena?_" he cried in disbelief.

"Uh, I…ah…" Nate repeated, but Chuck could hear the guilt in his voice, "She came over and we hung out."

Chuck laughed, "Hung out…as in replay of the Sheppard's wedding? Or hung out as in platonic friends playing Scrabble?"

Nate cleared his throat, "Both?"

Chuck let out hearty cheer before realizing that he had just provoked his throbbing headache, and promptly stopped to massage it, "Good job," he congratulated.

"Hold on. She wants to talk to you," Nate replied, and Chuck heard more quiet mutterings before Serena answered.

"Chuck?"

He grunted in response.

"I haven't gotten another letter. I'm scared. I mean, do you think it's right that I'd get thirty-three letters in thirty-three days, then all of the sudden they abruptly stop? There's got to be something wrong. But Eric's okay, Nate's fine, and Blair…" her voice trailed off, "Blair's with Thomas."

Chuck cringed, "If everyone's fine, why are you fucking telling me any of this?" He realized, as soon as he said the words, that he was just taking his anger out on Serena and she didn't really deserve to be yelled at.

"I'm sorry! I just thought you'd want to know," her voice was hurt, as if his outburst had actually wounded her a little.

"Just check that everyone we know is fine, and we'll just drop the whole thing," Chuck instructed, "I'm going back to bed." _Lie._

In fact, as he set his phone down, he began to nurse a new bottle of scotch.

**…**

"Hey, princess," Blair heard Georgina's hiss. She fought to open an eye, looking straight into Georgina's. There was something hidden deep within them, taunting her, but Blair was too tired to try and figure out what it was. A secretive smirk played on Georgina's lips.

"What?" Blair asked, realizing that the gag had been removed.

"No one knows you're missing, haven't you heard?" Georgina leaned in closer, and Blair could smell the alcohol on her breath.

"They're coming for me. I know it," Blair reassured.

"And who're all these people who are going to rescue you? I'm surprised you actually believe people care enough to worry where you are," Georgina snickered, pulling open the blinds.

Light flooded the entire room, and Blair cringed at the irony of the situation. She was in the darkest situation she had ever faced, yet the city was still bright and alive. Almost as if it didn't miss her at all.

"Serena. She'll come. Nate. He'll come too. Probably even…" she swallowed hard, "Probably even Chuck."

"Chuck Bass?" Georgina scoffed, "Even _he _doesn't want anything to do with scum like you."

"Why are you doing this?" Blair asked, trying to figure out a motive Georgina would have for kidnapping her.

"Because sometimes, even the princess can't get her happy ending," Georgina let out another cackle, slamming the door and locking it behind her.

**…**

He'd stopped. After the first bottle, he just stopped. It wasn't as if he didn't want anymore, it was that he couldn't bring himself to drink anymore. After all, he was Chuck Bass. He wasn't the guy who got shit-faced because of a _girl._ It was disgusting to the point of sickening.

He realized he had to forget about her. If he let himself dwell on it any longer, he'd be a wreck. A fucked-up, screwed over mess of a person. He wasn't the one that could save her. He'd always be a burden. He'd been a burden to Bart, and Blair was no different.

A loud pounding on the door interrupted his thoughts, "Chuck!" he heard a shriek from the other side.

He cracked the door open. There stood Serena.

She was a disheveled mess, "What's wrong?" he asked.

"She…She's…" Serena gasped.

He didn't want to comfort her. He wanted her to feel pain just like he had to.

"It's Blair. She's gone."

Time stopped. His heart stopped. The alcohol, his blood, everything rushed to his brain. He was the helpless, vulnerable boy he'd been denying. He'd gone from the man on top of the world, to the feeble, cowardly child in a matter of seconds. And it was all because of her.

tbc


	14. Confusion

**Title:** Finish my Sentences

**Summary:** When an unwelcome visitor returns to the Upper East, she brings along her Louis Vuitton luggage full of devious scams and schemes. This time, she's not only aimed at Serena, but the whole lot of the Constance upperclassmen. Only two people are scandalous enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can these two work through their differences when they find out that said visitor is more dangerous than she seems? Chuck/Blair; various other pairings. Set after 2.16.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own any characters.

**Rating:** PG-13; possible to have one or two M-rated chapters.

**Author's Note:** Okay, I'm really sorry it's been sort of long between updates and I'm usually a better updater but yes, life has been quite hectic. I'd give you my life story, but who the hell wants to hear that? Reviews make my day, reviewers (people who constantly review, I guess) make my life, and Abby and Jackie make for awesome betas.

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

* * *

**XIV. Confusion**

So he did what he did best. He denied it.

"She's probably just out. Shopping, clubbing, whatever. You said she's with," he coughed to hide his annoyance, "Toby, right?"

"It's Thomas. And no! He hasn't seen her since last night. She's not home, I asked Eleanor, and she won't pick up her cell," Serena informed him with a grave look.

Chuck tightened his grip on the doorknob to keep him standing upright, "I'm sure she's fine. Seriously, chill out, Serena."

"Chuck! I don't think this is a joke!" she repeated the exact words she had ignored weeks prior, "Please, I think she's in serious trouble."

"You're wasting my time," Chuck's voice hardened, and he began ushering Serena out the door.

Serena shoved her way back into his hotel room, "Stop it. I know you two aren't being civil right now, but she needs us!"

"Tell that to her," Chuck muttered, wringing his hands.

"I will! As soon as we find her," Serena persisted. Chuck pointed to the door, but she simply shook her head, "I'm not leaving until you agree to help me."

"Well, then you can always spend the night. I mean, we have some brother-sister bonding to catch up on, right? I clearly remember something about bathing together," Chuck smirked, attempting to lure Serena's attention away with sexual humor.

"I'm not laughing," Serena tapped her foot, "And I'm certainly not going anywhere until you say the magic word."

"How about a magic sentence? Get the fuck out of my room before I call security," Chuck answered sweetly, urging her into the hallway.

As she turned to walk away, she whipped her head back and shouted, "Don't act all brave; you're scared to death."

He managed a bitter laugh; after all, the numbness was from the alcohol, not from fright. Wasn't it?

**…**

It'd been a day, at least, but she couldn't exactly tell. After all, the blinds were still closed, and it wasn't as if she could get up and open them.

Occasionally, she'd hear voices in the hallway, murmuring, then gradually growing louder and louder, but she could never scream. The gag was on too tight. Perhaps she was hallucinating. It wouldn't be a crazy idea. She wasn't sure what time it was, where she was, and it certainly wouldn't be abnormal for her to start imaging the sounds of voices.

Her hands were still bound together with handcuffs, tight around her wrist, creating little purple rings on them. Her silk gown had been torn and scuffed at the bottom, but it was minor compared to the bruises on her legs from kicking at Carter.

Occasionally, she'd let her mind wander into the danger zone. _Chuck._

She hated how it was as if he could still haunt her, even without his presence. She'd dose off, then jolt awake at the sound of Chuck's voice. She could even hear what he was saying; she remembered every miniscule detail.

Oddly, the words Chuck were saying seemed to be an argument with Serena, "No, she's fine. Get out of my room."

Blair sighed, long and deep, letting the air filter through her lungs. She exhaled slowly, trying to rid herself of any thoughts that were of, pertaining to, or hinting at _Chuck Bass._ It was going to be a long night, she thought, lying back onto the hard carpet of the room, drifting off into an uncomfortable sleep.

**…**

It could have only been ten minutes or so, after all, Blair had incredible time sense. But she woke up groggily to the sound of a key turning in the lock. With a click and a twist, the door gave away. Blair's eyes widened; Georgina and Carter had said they were leaving her here. Why were they standing in the doorway?

"Hello, beautiful," Carter walked over, leaning in unnervingly close to her face, breath hot with the scent of weed. He untied the gag sloppily, forcing it deeper into her mouth before finally letting it drop to the ground.

She winced, refusing to answer, knowing whatever she said would somehow get thrown back in her face. It was who Blair Waldorf was. If she didn't have a clear shot at the win, she would make sure no one else did either.

"He's talking to you," Georgina said, wrapping her hands around his waist, "So answer him."

"No," Blair said irrefutably. She slid closer to the bed, resting against it for support. It wasn't much help, considering that her arms were still bound.

"Blair Waldorf, where are you manners?" Georgina asked with fake shock. Her delicately manicured fingers inched forward, grabbing the front of Blair's dress, "Did your mother raise you to be this rude?"

Blair flinched at the scent of alcohol wafting from Georgina's breath; that mixed with the pot on Carter's breath were making her a little lightheaded, a little nauseous.

When Blair didn't respond, Georgina grabbed one of Blair's arms, digging a dangerously sharp fingernail into the bare flesh, "Answer him," she instructed.

Blair laughed out loud; who did Georgina think she was? She was Georgina Sparks, Upper East Side's resident slut, known for her prominent display of sexual activity. With both genders. Blair, on the other hand, was Blair Cornelia Waldorf, daughter of Harold and Eleanor Waldorf, a prestigious name known by anyone notable, noted for her excellent academics and good graces with society. Being held prisoner by Georgina Sparks of all people was, suddenly, in some way, completely hysterical.

But her laughter was cut short as Carter moved forward, grasping her shoulders tightly. Though his nails weren't unnaturally sharp or painful, he had a much firmer hold on Blair, and unlike Georgina's, it was unavoidable pain. She couldn't hide her face twisting into anguish. It was certain that Carter's hands would create bruises.

"Ready to answer me?" Carter asked. He wasn't looking at Blair though, instead, his eyes were following Georgina's figure, walking towards the door. When he turned back to look at Blair, she saw a flash of humanity in his eyes. But as quickly as it was there, it disappeared

"Where are you going?" Carter called to Georgina who had already grabbed the key and was locking the suite.

"We're leaving. I've got somewhere to go," Georgina replied.

Carter stared at Blair, his eyes hardening once more, "We're not finished with you, princess," his voice, though, was less effective than Georgina's, because deep down in there she could still see her friend, Carter Baizen.

However, Georgina urged him, "Let's go," and her friend was gone, replaced by Carter Baizen, Georgina's bitch.

**…**

Maybe it was his conscience telling him that Blair truly was in trouble. Maybe it was just the fact that Chuck Bass needed to know everything about everyone. No matter the reason, Chuck hadn't been able to sit back and ignore the issue at hand. He had to take action. He told himself it was purely for the sake of gossip and scandal, refusing to believe that any emotions for Blair were involved. And he knew if he believed it, then it certainly had to be the truth.

But for some reason, exactly one hour and two minutes later, he found himself outside the original apartment they had tracked Georgina and Carter to. Apartment 163 in Brooklyn. It was bright out now; the sun shone brightly, casting dancing shadows onto the pavement.

He walked towards the apartment cautiously, letting his gaze fall from room to room, looking around fcarefully for any signs of danger. He finally got to door number 163. He felt himself inhale sharply, then slowly, let it out, until he had cleansed himself of fright and was ready to take on the challenge.

Slowly sliding the door open, it revealed a pitch black room, just as it had before. He fumbled and grasped around for the light switch, before finally flicking it on. Light flooded the room, and for a second, Chuck was blinded.

Then he felt his heart drop. In the middle of the room sat Georgina, rocking on the rocking chair, smiling her crazed smile at him.

"Hey, Chuck! You came," she greeted, as if this had been at all planned, as if they even spoke to each other anymore.

"Georgina…why are you here?" Chuck asked cautiously, lifting his hand off the switch, taking a step toward her, despite his brain's desperate attempts telling him to haul ass.

"I'm waiting for you, of course," Georgina replied, as if that were at all a sensible thing to say in the positions they were in.

"Why…did you know I was coming?" Chuck asked, eyebrows still furrowed, walking another step closer.

"Because," Georgina's voice hardened as did the expression on her face, "of Blair."

Chuck cringed at her name; the way Georgina was saying it made it almost seem worthless, "No," he retorted angrily.

"Good," she replied, standing from the chair.

She ambled toward him, cupping his face with her hand, pulling him down, letting her lips crash forcefully against hers.

Chuck let himself escape for a second, moving his lips instinctively against hers; after all, Georgina was still an extremely good kisser, and Chuck was still a male who hadn't had sex in quite a while. A week, at least.

But he pulled away, "Stop," he instructed, stepping away from her, pulling completely out of her reach.

"So you tell me why you came here," Georgina spat, realizing at once that Chuck had been lying prior.

"Where is she? No one can find her. Tell me where she is," Chuck spoke firmly, with a hint of regret in his voice.

Georgina let out a cackle. If she couldn't have Chuck, neither could any one else, "You'll find out when the time is right," she answered cryptically, letting her black hair fall in front of her face.

Chuck stepped forward, grabbing her wrists, "You tell me right now."

"What difference does it make? If you ever, ever come looking for her," Georgina paused for a second, "We'll kill her."

Chuck's face contorted into an expression of horror before it was replaced with one of confidence, "You're bluffing. You're shitting. I know you are. You don't have Blair, you don't know where the hell she is. And you sure as hell won't kill her."

Georgina let out a smirk, and then swiftly walked out of the door, leaving Chuck standing alone, gaping at the empty spot Georgina had sat.

**…**

She was starving. She hadn't eaten in several hours, according to the ticks of the clock on the wall. Though she couldn't see it, she had been counting the minutes ever since Carter and Georgina had left. It was the only thing she could think to do to pass time.

The dreaded click and twist soon filled the still air in the apartment and Blair flinched in advance, knowing they had something devious planned.

"Hello," Georgina greeted happily, with the mysterious glint still dancing in her eyes.

Carter followed close behind, "How are you doing? You going to answer me?" he asked cruelly, imitating Georgina.

"Or else what? What could you possibly do to me?" Blair asked, relieving the pent-up anger she had been storing.

Carter took three steps towards her, angrily, but Georgina stuck out her arm to stop him, "Carter. Not now."

Blair refused to think of what the hidden meaning behind those words were, simply because if she didn't know anything was going on, nothing was.

Georgina pulled a thin, silver cell phone from her pocket, "We're going to have you make a call."

**…**

The day had been much too long, and Chuck was settling into his bed as his phone jolted from the night stand, twisting and turning to the vibrations.

Chuck groaned, leaning over to grab it, "Hello?"

"Chuck?" Blair's strained voice flooded the tiny speaker, his brain, and his whole body.

tbc

**A/N: Sorry, I don't usually do these, but I'm just letting you know that Abby and I have started a collaboration fic! It's called Thin Lines Between Truth and Lies; it's going to pretty badassss. So check it!**


	15. Surprise

**Title:** Finish my Sentences

**Summary:** When an unwelcome visitor returns to the Upper East, she brings along her Louis Vuitton luggage full of devious scams and schemes. This time, she's not only aimed at Serena, but the whole lot of the Constance upperclassmen. Only two people are scandalous enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can these two work through their differences when they find out that said visitor is more dangerous than she seems? Chuck/Blair; various other pairings. Set after 2.16.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own any characters.

**Rating:** PG-13; possible to have one or two M-rated chapters.

**Author's Note:** Yeah, I really haven't been working as diligently on getting chapters out because life is pretty hectic. But I am trying really hard to write 'em, I hope you enjoy them as I much as I enjoy writing them. Be sure to check out Thin Lines (multi-chapt collab fic). Review are love, as always! Thanks to my betas, as always.

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

* * *

**XV. Surprise**

She kept her voice steady, ignoring the trembling of her lower lip and the tears building in her eyes, as she heard him respond, dazedly, "Blair?"

"Yes, it's me," she informed, keeping her voice low so it wouldn't give away any signs of fear. But true to form, Chuck could read her like an open book, even over the telephone. Her voice betrayed her, though, leading Chuck to ask a series of rapidfire questions.

"Where the hell are you? And what's wrong?" Chuck asked; though not particularly heartfelt or meaningful, Blair felt a little reassured by the fact that Chuck did care, even if only a little bit.

"I can't…tell you," she answered, watching Georgina's lips mouth the words to her. And she would have added, "Right now," onto the end of the sentence, but Georgina was glaring at her.

"Tell him that you never want to see him again," Georgina smirked, making Blair cringe. The cruelty in her smile, the terrifying expression she wore on her face made Blair get the urge to scream into the phone for help.

But she couldn't because Carter held a pocketknife to her neck, and he was slowly closing the space between the knife and her throat, inching forward, closer and closer, until…

"Stop trying to find me. I don't want to ever see you. Ever again," Blair repeated, seeing Georgina's face light up with a satisfied grin, watching the knife move a couple inches away from her bare flesh, and then hearing Chuck's confused voice over the phone. The room swirled into a mixture of lights and colors.

"What are you talking about, Blair? Where are you? Does Georgina really have you?" Chuck threw questions at Blair. Though she would have liked to answer them all, she was silenced by one hateful glare from Georgina. Her long pause caused Chuck to continue asking, "Why is the line all muffled? Does Serena know where you are?"

And Blair closed her eyes, almost bringing up a hand to massage the bridge of her nose; but she stopped, realizing the knife was in her way as was Carter's muscular arm. She caught sight of a silver sparkle on the ceiling, reflected from the blade of the knife, dancing merrily as it caught the light. Oh, the irony.

"Tell him you're under our watch. Tell him if he ever tries to find you, we'll kill him," Georgina instructed harshly, tossing a sickeningly sweet half-smile at Carter to ensure that he kept the blade close to her throat. It was close, all right, so close Blair could practically smell the metal scent seeping from the knife. So close Blair could smell the rustic blood scent wafting from the blade.

"What's going on?" Chuck asked, more perplexed than ever, his voice coming fuzzily from the other end of the line, crackling and breaking with each word.

"I…can't tell you. But I'm with Georgina and Carter. Don't try and find me, please," she begged genuinely, "They'll kill you if you do. Please, Chuck, I need you to do this for me."

"_What_?" Chuck bellowed loudly, shaking the entire speaker of the cell phone. Silence followed as Blair simply stared at it, unable to answer him.

"Blair! Just tell me where you are! I'm going to get help," Chuck answered, once he'd finally regained the sensibility to speak. But she still couldn't answer him, as the blade snuck closer.

She could feel the blood in her throat pulsing, streaming in her veins, thumping louder and louder as the blade moved nearer and nearer to the warm, bare flesh of her neck. Her heart beat erratically as her eyes moved toward the blade, but she was unable to move her head, seeing as if she did, the blade would plummet straight into the soft, smooth skin.

Her breath hitched as Carter's mouth moved near her ear, breathing warm, moist huffs of air into her ear; out of the corner of her eye, she saw Georgina mouthing, "Tell him he's as good as dead if he comes within a one-mile radius of you."

At that, Carter gave Georgina a quizzical look, but she waved it away, pouring her energy back into torturing Blair.

Blair swallowed deeply as her throat tightened. She couldn't tell him; she couldn't flat-out say that to him. There had to be another way. Her eyes met with Georgina's, instantly giving her a sorrowful and pleading look. But it was no use, Georgina, as always, was dead-set on having her way, and unlike Carter, she couldn't be persuaded otherwise.

"Look, I'm going to be fine if you just promise me you won't try and rescue me," Blair muttered quietly into the speakerphone, hoping he would obey. Then again, he was Chuck Bass; obedience wasn't exactly at the top of his list of qualities.

"Blair, please, I can help," a hint of terror laced his voice and Blair wrapped her hands stiffly around one another, feeling the cold, metal handcuffs gripping her wrists, so tightly they were almost painful.

"Chuck, you've done enough," she mimicked Georgina's moving mouth, which was curling up into a sneer, "Thank you for everything," she murmured, hoping the words would go unnoticed by them. But Georgina had caught it, and her eyes hardened, darkening from brown to a darker ebony color.

"Carter," Georgina snickered, "Take the phone from her," she instructed, voice turning nauseatingly sugary.

"Wait…" Blair cried as Carter removed the cool piece of metal from beneath her ear. She saw Carter almost hesitate, and for a second, she imagined that he'd help her. Her wish was denied as the sharp blade quickly silenced her.

Carter held the phone, hissing, "Good bye, Chuck."

His voice contained such an acidic level of venom, Blair realized that _she_ had nothing to do with the reason Carter was really helping Georgina. Aside from being her personal servant and slave, he also had an ulterior motive: hurting Chuck Bass.

He promptly threw the cell phone at one of the taupe-colored walls, shattering not only the phone, but Blair's only hope of escape or survival. The clanging of the phone was horrifically loud, ending with crackling from the damaged LCD monitor.

Blair's pleas grew desperately louder until, "Carter!" Georgina barked, "Silence her."

And with one swift motion, he pulled the gag from the back pocket of his jeans, and then hastily fastened the scarf around Blair's mouth, yanking the knot tight around her head. Pain surged each time he pulled, and her lips ached from the silk material muffling her cries.

Suddenly, she felt the chilled metal against her throat. She froze.

Carter howled a laugh, which was soon accompanied by Georgina's cacophonous cackle. Blair whimpered, frightened, but as she let the noise out, her throat vibrated, making the blade tingle as it bounced lightly on her warm skin.

It slid flatly under her chin. Then was quickly removed. She shuddered with relief as the door slammed shut behind her. Sliding to the ground, she let out a slow, calmed sigh. With nothing to reassure her that she'd be okay, she was going to have to be brave.

She reached both her hands up to feel the skin on her neck that the blade had previously been, mocking her with the thin line between life and death. It was dry; Carter hadn't used the dagger, which, in this dire situation, came as a joyous piece of information.

One thing was for sure, though. Georgina was, without a doubt, not finished with her revenge.

**…**

He stood staring blankly at his blinking cell phone. How he managed to stay standing upright, he did not know, but what he did know was that Blair was clearly in serious danger, and his prior avoidance of the subject was now only harming him.

It was strange, really, because Chuck Bass was the kind of person that had an answer for everything. But in this one moment, his mind went completely blank, as if having been erased by the events that had previously occurred. In his state of complete shock, he was frozen, watching the clock tick, almost symbolically, on the wall. It was as if it was counting Blair's minutes, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He racked his brain for an idea. He looked in every crook and crevice of his brain for anything, anything at all, just a plan, a plot, but he drew blank. It was useless.

His mind, while looking for an answer, had accidently flashed back to the last words she had said to him in person, "No. I can't."

It was too hard. It was too hard to strong; it was too hard to be Chuck Bass, at a time like this. Chuck Bass was tough, Chuck Bass was witty, Chuck Bass was a person any man could be proud of saying he was. But that was Chuck Bass.

Chuck was an orphan. A pitied, unfortunate teenage boy, who was still learning the ups-and-downs of life. Chuck was scared of being himself, so he covered it with a tough-guy with an aggressive libido façade. Chuck was terrified at the thought of emotion, so he covered it with a thick layer of sarcasm and denial. But when everything was stripped away, what lay beneath was just Chuck.

His PI, he would call his PI, he decided, as he finally settled on a plan. Promptly pressing the number three on his speed dial, he held the phone close to his ear, ignoring the barely-there quivering of his hand.

"Mike, hello," he greeted, once a voice spoke on the other end.

"Mr. Bass, sir," Mike responded gruffly.

"Can you track phone calls?" Chuck asked, raising an eyebrow, watching the street lights flicker through his non-curtained window.

"Yes, sir. Can I have the number?" Mike asked. Chuck heard annoyance in his voice, and almost lashed out before realizing that the clock read four in the morning.

"There wasn't one. It was an unknown caller," Chuck informed, analyzing the two words on his phone screen.

"Can this wait a few hours?" Mike attempted, even knowing the answer as he asked.

"No! I pay you to be of service to me whenever I see necessary. And right now I need you to track an unknown number; and if you, God forbid, don't accomplish the task at hand before dawn, I will see that you don't stay employed a day longer as an employee at Bass Industries," Chuck snapped, turning his fear into rage.

Mike was quick to apologize, "I'm sorry, sir. I'll be at your hotel room in five minutes."

**…**

"Well, well," the words pierced into Blair's brain, which was still fast asleep, as she had been minutes earlier, "If it isn't sleeping beauty."

Blair looked up into Georgina's crazed eyes, laughing at her, even though her mouth was turned downwards in a sympathetic expression. Over the course of the past few days, Blair had learned that Georgina's mood clearly defined her punishment for the day.

What she was being punished for, she still had not the faintest idea, but whatever the reason, Georgina always made sure the penalty was well-delivered and taken without so much as a word.

The dampened silk was torn away from her face so she could respond, "Where's Carter?"

An evil sneer crawled onto Georgina's face as she motioned towards the door, "Oh, he was a little relunctant to come, but he'll be here soon, I promise. We're going to have some fun today."

tbc


	16. Rage

**Title:** Finish my Sentences

**Summary:** When an unwelcome visitor returns to the Upper East, she brings along her Louis Vuitton luggage full of devious scams and schemes. This time, she's not only aimed at Serena, but the whole lot of the Constance upperclassmen. Only two people are scandalous enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can these two work through their differences when they find out that said visitor is more dangerous than she seems? Chuck/Blair; various other pairings. Set after 2.16.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own any characters.

**Rating:** PG-13; possible to have one or two M-rated chapters.

**Author's Note:** This chapter's not too short, not too long, but it is a little bit explicit--not a lot, I'm not big on writing extreme smut scenes, but there are a few uncomfortable things mentioned. So if you're easily offended, I'd advise not skipping some of it. And I'm sorry about slower updates; read my profile: it's hectic out there in the real world. But thank you in advance to all my readers/reviewers, I'd be nothing without you guys. Thanks Jackie for the beta. Oh, and it's my birthday!!

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

* * *

**XVI. Rage**

The door swung open. Upon first glance, it was obvious that Carter Baizen was the one standing in the doorway, slumped against the frame. But upon closer examination, it was clear that it was only Carter there physically. His mouth was turned downwards in an unsatisfied pout, mixed with a hint of grimace, as if he couldn't control it. His hand, gripping the doorframe tightly, was twitching ever-so-slightly; his gaze was focused on Georgina, and even Blair could sense the tension in the room.

"Carter! You're here," Georgina sneered, pulling him away from the entrance, resting her hands lightly on his waist. Blair almost raised an eyebrow when Carter stepped away from her touch.

"Fuck off, Georgina. Let's just get this over with," Carter hissed, running a hand through his brunette hair, sighing quietly.

"Carter, don't be so pushy! Why don't you ask her nicely?" Georgina suggested, a sinister smile curling onto her lips. Blair observed the entire scene silently, until Carter turned to her.

Fear washed over her like a bucket of ice-cold water had been tossed, drenching her from head to toe, causing her to shiver from fright. Carter didn't seem to have control over his body. As Blair caught his eyes, her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were glazed over, not focusing on anything, but darting around frantically. He was on something, that was for sure.

"Ask her," Georgina pushed him forward, forcing him to stumble a little towards Blair.

"I don't have to fucking ask her if I don't fucking want to," Carter growled, voice dropping, "I'll just tell her."

Blair's eyes widened, trying to figure out what they were talking about; what devious plan had Georgina cooked up this time? And why did Carter have to be drugged in order for it to be successful?

"Look, Snow White," she shot a look of disdain in Blair's general direction, laughing hysterically as if the nickname were incredibly clever,"Wants to know, so why don't you just hurry up?" Georgina chided Carter.

"Just," Carter seemed to stutter, unable to get the words out, "Just…"

In one swift motion, he had walked over to her, removed all her scarves and handcuffs, and had her pinned under him onto the fluffy sheets of the bed. She trembled; she had an idea of what could possibly happen.

"Carter," before she could stop it, a whimper had escaped her mouth, wavering with despair. It came out as a desperate plea.

He stared at her, long and hard. Blair inhaled sharply as his eyes caught hers; there was no Carter in there, all that was there was hunger, desperation, and hatred. Her friend had ceased to exist.

His hands moved roughly against her smooth skin, ripping the silk gown into shreds, with an ear-splitting tear. Goosebumps shot up onto her warm flesh as the cool air hit her full force. Frightened, she cowered away from his touch. He couldn't go through with this; he wouldn't. Right?

His damp breath hissed into her ear, "You'll be screaming my name, baby," but she didn't even recognize his voice. A serial killer had that kind of voice; a rapist had that eerie tone lacing his words, but Blair's childhood friend? He had never spoken to her that way.

"Carter, stop," she demanded, summoning her inner-confidence. She hadn't expected, though, to be answered by a barking laugh, harsh and biting.

"We're just getting started," his mouth nipped at her earlobe and she stiffened under his touch.

She shivered again, a chill running through her entire body. The shiver was probably due to the fact that she was clad in nothing but a bra and her tiny panties, but more likely, it was because of Carter's fingers rubbing her inner thighs.

"You can stop. Georgina is not the boss of you," Blair tried, voice hardening.

"What, you'll fuck _Chuck Bass_, but not me? My, my, have your standards lowered," Carter responded, and with that, crashed his lips onto hers.

There was no sensuality in the kiss. It was forced, it was painful, and it was worse than any of Blair's nightmares had been, huddled in the corner of the freezing room. His teeth nipped at her lips, and she tried desperately to push his body off of hers, but he was too damn strong. Her eyes wandered to the ceiling as she prayed to God the drugs would wear off.

He moved to her neck, pressing himself uncomfortably against her; she let him, hoping he would realize what he was doing. But he never did. His fingers slipped around the back of her, hooking the bra clasp. With a movement that would surely leave scratches on her back, he unhooked the clasp, snapping it, removing it from her frail body.

"Stop! Carter! Please!" her cries grew louder as she realized he wasn't going to come to his senses, "_Carter, please, I'm begging you. Get off of me, please._"

But he didn't respond, instead he moved his mouth downwards, pressing his warm, moist tongue onto her bare skin.

Suddenly, he stopped, just short of her breasts. He was breathing heavily, as was she. He looked up, and for a second, she was hopeful. Hopeful that Carter was back, hopeful that she'd found an escape. Instead, she got a look of disgust.

"I've changed my mind," his words came unexpectedly, "This isn't about you. It's about me."

He gestured at his pants, still fully on his body, pointing to his growing erection. No. He couldn't want… He couldn't want her to…?

"I want to feel your mouth on me," he panted, pushing her onto the ground. She crumpled into a heap onto the scratchy carpet. He grabbed her forcefully, moving her towards his now clearly visible dick, shoving her towards it.

"_No, no!_" She protested as loudly as her vocal chords would allow. Her moans came quicker and rushed, not from pleasure, but from horror and panic, "_Carter…_"

Although her voice quivered, and tears filled her eyes, Carter seemed oblivious, forcing her hands onto him, sliding his khaki pants onto the floor, metal belt buckle hitting the ground with a clang. It startled her, bringing on a fresh batch of tears, letting the previous ones splatter onto the pile of khaki on the floor next to them.

"I want you to suck―" Carter started, but Blair broke away, crawling desperately, rushing for the door. She was stopped by Carter's large hands pressing painfully against her shoulders, dragging her back towards him.

"_NO!_" the tears that had once threatened her to spill over now flowed freely from her eyes, salty water running down her face, plinking onto the carpet, instantly absorbed, "_Stop touching me! Get off of me, you fucking bastard! You asshole, you―"_

"You know what?" his voice came unexpectedly loudly into her right ear, "Forget it; I'm going to make you regret saying a word."

Without another word, he picked her limp body from the ground, flicked her small, black La Perla panties away, and then promptly slammed his entire length into her.

No warning, no notice, he just pushed her onto the bed, shouting obscenities at her, smirking crazily at her attempts of escape. His entire body lingered over hers, and he let himself ram into her continuously, riding her fast, relishing her cries for help, relishing her screams of despair.

She writhed under him, trying to escape, trying to find a way out, but she was stuck, "_Carter, stop!_" But it was no use, he was grinding himself into her, and she found herself squealing at the excruciating pain.

"Oh, you like that, don't you, princess? You like what I do to you, don't you?" his words came shakily and unsteadily.

He came and she shrieked, with horror and trepidation lacing her screams, "_No, no, no, no!"_

And then, just like that, he was off of her. It was like an out-of-body experience; like everything had just been a dream. But evidently not, because he was panting heavily, breath coming short and fast, and he slid into his pants and shirt back onto his muscular body, without so much as another look her way.

He kicked her undergarments into her face, but she didn't catch them, too stunned to, leaning against the bed frame, wondering what had just happened. Hurriedly, she slid her underwear and bra back onto her narrow, shivering frame.

Georgina, who had been questionably silent, suddenly walked over, applauding, "Well done, Snow White. Excellent performance, Carter."

Blair refused to look up, until something caught her eye.

A blinking, flashing red light drew her attention away from Georgina's mocking leer. Suddenly, Blair couldn't breathe. It was a video camera.

**…**

"Mike, what do you know?" Chuck barked into the phone, pacing steadily around his room, glancing at the clock from time to time.

"Sir, all I know is that the phone call was made from a Bass Industries building. It seems to be a hotel building; I'm sorry, that's all the information that I can get," Mike replied gruffly.

"I pay you for information, Goddammit!" Chuck's voice rose angrily, "And all you're telling me is that it was made from a Bass Industries building. Do you know how many of those there are?"

"I'm sorry, sir, like I said, that's the only information that is available," his voice came quietly over the line, apologetic.

"Then find me the fucking unavailable information!" Chuck spoke firmly, regaining composure, "And I'll pay you an extra ten grand."

"Mr. Bass, I'm sorry, I'm telling you, even for the extra ten grand, there is _nothing_ else I can do. The line has been disconnected and the caller's location was very uncertain. It seems the connectivity wasn't even strong."

Chuck huffed, leaning back into his recliner, "Thank you, Mike. You have been _no_ help," sarcasm ringing in his words.

"Good bye, sir," he bid Chuck good bye, and promptly hung the phone up.

Chuck stared out the window. It was useless; he wasn't a savior. He was nothing but Chuck, the hormonal, good-for-nothing, teenage orphan.

**…**

"Georgina…you…" Blair's eyebrows rose in disbelief as she stared at the flashing red light on the tiny camera, "You can't…"

"Sorry, princess," Georgina cackled, "I can do whatever the hell I please."

Blair realized that pleading wasn't going to help. Georgina was immune to begging, as was her conscience. Her help was going to have to come from Carter, who was turned away, back facing her.

"Carter, I don't know what Georgina has done to you, but I know this isn't you. This isn't you," swiping quickly at the dripping tears slowly making their ways down her porcelain face.

"Oh, and you know him so well," Georgina cut in, placing a dainty kiss on his cheek. He still stood, motionless, staring at the rushing cars under the room.

"I know who he was; I may not know him anymore, but underneath, my friend Carter is still buried in there. He's still there," she made her way quickly over to his still figure, shaking him slowly. But as he turned around to face her, she realized that he was gone. He was clearly at the point of no-return because even as Blair was speaking to him, his body naturally propelled himself towards Georgina, coming to a stop under her firm grip.

"Carter, tie the scarf back on her," Georgina commanded, waving him off in the general direction where Blair's clothing, the silk scarves, and handcuffs lay.

Wordlessly, he obeyed, lacing the silk around her feet, tightly, and proceeded to handcuff her.

Suddenly Blair began yelled with unexpected force, "_No! You cannot. You can't! You two are fucking crazy. Fucking out of your minds,_" she screamed until her face turned a crimson red, "Chuck will never want you, Georgina. Maybe you think that torturing me will somehow change his mind, but you're wrong. You're dead wrong. _You, both of you, are going to rot in hell._"

Georgina rested a hand on Blair's shoulder. Instantly, Blair tensed, not only at the fact that Georgina was touching her, but because of the bloodred nails scraping her bare skin. The room was still for a minute, Blair swore that the beating of her heart could be heard by everyone in the room. A bead of sweat dripped from her chest, nestling between the two cups of her bra. She stared at it, almost believing that the bead of sweat was vibrating to the beat of her thrumming heart.

Carter's voice cut cruelly through the silence, "You're going to regret that, princess. You'll be begging, crying, screaming, and in the end, you'll come to realize you are _nobody's_ top priority."

**…**

Chuck's inbox blinked in the darkness of the night. He ambled over unsteadily, grabbing hold of the phone. Tumbling onto the bed, he raised the phone above his head, seeing the small LCD screen glow in the pitch-black of his room.

His fingers fumbled around on the tiny keypad, but finally found the button he was looking for. A small image showed on the screen, and he squinted to get a clearer view of the tiny video.

As his mind began to register the events occurring on screen, his mind began to numb. Anger, terror, regret, failure, panic, fright. Every single possible emotion washed over him; he fell to his knees trying to drown out Blair's desperate cries for help. He did this. He had done this to her. And when she needed it most, he wasn't there to help her. Not only was he not a savior, he was the one who caused this pain to be inflicted.

His body was flooded with inexplicable rage.

"I'm going to kill them," he whispered, letting out a maniacal yell, taking deep breaths as he listened to the scream reverberate through the entire room.

tbc


	17. Savior

**Title:** Finish my Sentences

**Summary:** When an unwelcome visitor returns to the Upper East, she brings along her Louis Vuitton luggage full of devious scams and schemes. This time, she's not only aimed at Serena, but the whole lot of the Constance upperclassmen. Only two people are scandalous enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can these two work through their differences when they find out that said visitor is more dangerous than she seems? Chuck/Blair; various other pairings. Set after 2.16.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own any characters.

**Rating:** PG-13; possible to have one or two M-rated chapters.

**Author's Note:** Wow. I'm impressed--I thought this chapter was gonna be a helluva a lot shorter, but it came out decently long. Well, I'm in Rome for Spring Break, so I had to beat some people up to get to this computer ;) But other than that, Rome's aweesomee. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and any reviews will be SO appreciated... seriously.

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

* * *

**XVII. Savior**

He rested his hands on his knees, panting hard. It was exhausting, playing the role of someone he wasn't. Pretending to be the savior even when he knew he was the villain. All he knew was that when he thought of Blair's face, twisting in despair and squealing frantically, everything _ached._ It wasn't ran-a-marathon bones aching; it was more of a weary, worn aching of the heart. His stomach clenched, his brain momentarily unable to think. And once the feeling passed, his jaw would snap shut angrily as he mentally ran through a list of torturous techniques he could use on Georgina and Carter.

He'd never wanted to protect anything so badly.

It was almost instinctual, the way he wanted to save her. Be her knight in shining armor. Her prince riding in a white steed. And then he'd gag at the thought of being anything conventional; they were Blair and Chuck for God's sake. But it didn't matter because he could not ignore the feeling of protectiveness that ran like fire through his icy veins.

And though Chuck Bass usually preferred to work alone, desperate times called for desperate measures. He pulled out his cell phone, trying to ignore the tremble of his hands.

"Hello?" Serena's sunny voice calmed him for a moment before he cleared his voice to respond.

"Serena― it's Chuck. We've got a problem." As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt stupid. A problem? To put it mildly, maybe.

"What? What are you talking about?" Serena sounded a little groggy, but he could hear her starting to become alert.

"It's about...Blair. Are you with Nathaniel? I think we all need to discuss this together, " he announced, voice quivering on the last word.

Serena paused before responding, "Are you... okay, Chuck?" and it was perfectly normal for her to be confused; after all, when did Chuck Bass' voice ever _quiver?_

"Yeah, can you just talk to Nathaniel?" he asked after hearing Nate's distinct tenor voice question, "Who're you talkin' to?"

"Okay. We'll be over in about ten minutes. Is this big? I mean, should we be, like, emotionally prepared?" Chuck knew this strategy; Serena used it often. To cover her worry, she would chatter profusely, droning on and on, pretending like nothing was wrong. Van der Woodsens were notorious for acting like all situations were exactly as they had planned.

"Serena, just get over here as fast as you can," his voice came gruffly, and he promptly slammed the phone shut.

It burned his ear; the phone was where the horrifying video of Blair had been, and it was like fire, with Blair's screams as the curling flames, dancing into his ears, scorching out all of his logical thoughts.

**...**

Though it had only been a couple of days, she was now immune to pain. The physical pain she still felt; but it was the internal pain, the emotional pain, that was no longer there. Every time Georgina slapped her face, Blair could feel the stinging of her cheek, the lightness, the numbness, the tingling, but that was all. Underneath that, nothing. She was completely void of emotion. She knew what she was supposed to feel: anger, fear, disgust, hatred, even. But what was the use? She would only be wasting her energy.

Georgina's violent sneer and cackle lingered in her brain long after she was gone; Sometimes, Blair would awake to the sound of the cacophonous noise, and then she would always feel a little better. Like maybe she was scared of Georgina, and that emotions were starting to seep back into her life.

But it was still missing, that real, true fear. Blair shuddered when she realized that if Georgina walked in there at that exact moment, planning on killing her, Blair wouldn't care. She wouldn't actually feel any sort of terror, except maybe a twinge of regret. And Blair would wish, only for a second, that Georgina would come in, just so she could have that one tiny taste of emotion.

She lightly prodded at a large bruise growing on her shoulder; it was from Carter, she recognized. It hurt, but it wasn't enough. It didn't hurt enough. She wanted the pain. She wanted it so badly, she wanted it so badly she dug her nail into the bruise, hoping for something. She pressed the bruise until the purple patch was darker, and she had to bite back a scream.

But it felt amazing.

Her moment of pride was interrupted by Carter walking in abruptly, letting the door slam behind him with a clang so loud that the room shook.

"Why are you here?" her words were almost a challenge, daring him to hit her.

"Dunno," he shrugged, "I'm waiting for Georgina."

Blair's mouth drew into a straight line, "Too bad she's busy trying to seduce Chuck Bass. Otherwise, you two would've made a cute couple," sarcastic sweetness oozed on Blair's words, and she watched in satisfaction as Carter's hand clenched into a fist, and his jaw snapped together tightly. Provoking him was just too easy.

"Even after being kidnapped Blair Waldorf is still a bitch," he said snidely, edges of his smirk curling upwards, "Actually, you'd be out of here if people were looking for you," his eyes twinkled deviously, "But obviously, they aren't."

Under normal circumstances, that remark might have struck a nerve. But it didn't affect her, "I might be a bitch, but at least I'm not someone's bitch."

"You..." he inched toward her, and she could see his fingers itching to slap her smack across the face.

"You..." she mocked, "So many ways to finish that. But why don't you take the high road and not say anything at all? I mean, why don't you at least save the good comebacks for when Georgina is around so she can be impressed by the little show you put on?"

The moment she'd be waiting for finally came, his hand darted swiftly across her right cheek, the sound of his rough hand hitting her bare flesh resonating in the otherwise empty room.

As she let out a whimper of pain, she met eyes with Carter. There was raw emotion in there; even she could tell he was in love with Georgina, whether he admitted it or not.

Even though he had just slapped her across the face, she was grateful. Because for those five seconds, she knew how to feel again. She knew she was angry, she knew she was frightened, and it felt so good, she would've taken the pain over and over again.

"Thank you," she responded with sincerity.

His eyebrows furrowed, and she could see the confusion splayed across his face, _he had just smacked her, yet she was thanking him?_

"Yeah, well," his brain tried desperately to form a response to 'thank you', but failed, so instead he replied, "You're welcome."

He watched her wearily as she rubbed her numb cheek with a handcuffed hand; the short-lived emotional rollercoaster was over, and she was back to being Blair Waldorf, Ice Queen, with a heart made of stone. That title sounded so much better than the truth: she'd truly forgotten how to feel.

"Are you doing this because you want to hurt Chuck?" the question tumbled out of her mouth effortlessly, and she had asked it so boldly, there wasn't even a minute chance she could pretend that it hadn't been asked.

He was silent for a moment, "I'm not really sure."

Blair could see the truth behind his answer, and though Carter probably had meant it in an offhand, indifferent way, Blair read every word, "Did you ever think," her voice dropped to a whisper, "that you were hurting me along the way?"

He hesitated yet again, face softening, but was suddenly interrupted by a flashing and vibrating in his pocket. He reached in an dug his cell phone out, flipping it open, then pressing it to his ear, "Hello?"

A distinct voice wafted from the other end of the line.

"Yeah. I'm heading downstairs now."

And as he snapped his phone shut, he turned and let out another sneer, "Hurting you? Please, _nothing_ hurts _you._"

And though he didn't realize, he had struck the complete, utter truth.

**...**

"What is it, man?" Nate's low voice asked as soon as he stepped into the hotel room.

"Look, I need you guys to do me a favor," but it wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"Yeah, anything," Serena agreed, prancing in behind Nate, "Did you find any more clues about Blair?"

Chuck winced at her name, and quickly looked away to cover his contorted face, "Uh, yeah, I got some new information from Mike."

Nate quirked an eyebrow, "Mike?"

"My PI," Chuck replied automatically, as if the answer should've been obvious.

"Oh. Right," Nate said, turning around to give Serena a little jab in the ribs; Chuck ignored it. They were so blatantly adorable it was vomit-inducing.

"Anyway, all I know is that she's in a Bass Industries building. One of the hotels. But that's it, and I need you guys to go and survey all of the buildings. Can you guys check all of the ones on fifth and ninth?" he instructed gravely. He hated the little grins they were giving each other; he wanted nothing more than to wipe the disgusting smiles off of their faces.

"Yeah, of course. We'll report back to you via cell phone if we get anything," Serena replied, giving him a small, hopeful smile. He didn't return it.

"And it would be nice if you guys could focus on the task at hand and stop," he waved his hand in their general direction, "being all on each other."

Nate shot him a quizzical look, and Serena scoffed quietly. Though he'd meant for it to come out almost as a joke, it had come out bitter and regretful.

"Yeah, sorry," Serena whispered, then pulled Nate out the door.

He paced his room, back and forth, back and forth, until he grabbed his cell phone and placed a phone call to the lobby of the Palace, "Hello? Can you please tell me if a Georgina Sparks is staying in this hotel?"

Faint tapping was heard as the receptionist keyed away at the computer, looking into its database.

"No, I'm sorry, sir. We have no record of a Georgina Sparks."

"How about a Carter Baizen?"

There was another hesitation on the other line as typing was heard, "No, sir, no Carter Baizen either."

He hung up. It was useless. Completely useless. After all, Georgina's specialty was hiding from the officials.

An idea was formulating in his mind, and even though he knew it would kill him inside to watch the video again, he knew it was the only way he could get a clue.

This time, he pretended it wasn't Blair. He pretended it was another porn video; but it was no use, the screaming was utterly impossible to ignore. Especially because it was Blair's dainty howl, yelping for Carter to _stop, stop, please stop_! Suddenly his eyes moved to the background of the video. Chuck had spent enough time in the Palace to know the exact details of every single room. The red curtains, the fluffy down comforter… all the rooms in the Palace had been changed to silk sheets except for one. And he knew exactly which one. Room 1163.

**…**

She wasn't exactly sure why, but she was laughing. Not hysterically, but a quiet, low chuckle. It wasn't because it felt good to laugh; after all, Blair knew how void of emotion she was, but it was because the silence was starting to drive her crazy.

A low pounding came at the door, and she braced herself for Georgina or Carter to walk in.

But when the door flung open, her mouth dropped into a perfect 'o'. Chuck. It wasn't a dream. Chuck Bass was really here. Chuck Bass, Chuck Bass…

And all of the sudden, all those bottled emotions that she'd been lacking for so long flooded back to her, causing her to shiver. He was really here, he really cared. And it wasn't just that, it was the fact that someone was looking for her. They'd been lying. They'd been flat-out bullshitting. They…

They would kill him if they found him.

And her feelings of gratuity, relief, and want disappeared, replaced by fear and terror. They wouldn't spare a second before killing him. They'd probably come after her, too, but after weeks of torture, death didn't sound so unappealing. But they couldn't kill him.

"No! Chuck, leave," she hissed, before realizing the words coming out of her mouth.

**…**

Chuck was utterly confused. He'd found it. He'd found her. Yet, the first thing she said to him was, "Chuck, leave."

He hated not knowing why she was being hostile. He hated being on the outside of an inside joke, no matter how un-laughable the situation was.

Suddenly, she was sobbing hysterically. He rushed to her side, laying a firm hand on her back, until he saw her wince.

"Blair, are you okay? What's wrong?" it was odd to hear himself be this, well…maternal.

"Chuck, if you know what's good for the both of us, leave. Please, I'm begging you," she asked through her tears, streaming down her face.

His eyebrow knit together, "What do you mean? I'm here to get you out of here," he drew his own conclusion, "Oh, God. What did they put you on? What drug are they feeding you?"

"Nothing," she whimpered, "Please get out of here."

"I'm here to help!" he exclaimed, exasperated. Did any other princess beg her prince to leave when they were clearly there to rescue them? Then his eyes caught sight of the blooming bruises sprouting on her frail frame. They were massive purple spots, obviously a result from the torture Georgina and Carter were putting her through. She was clad in nothing but a thin bra and underwear, with her silk gown draped over her like a shawl.

"You're going to be okay, Blair," he reassured her, then his voice dropped to a menacing growl, "But I'm not so sure about Carter and Georgina."

"They…" she hiccupped, "That's what I've been trying to tell you! Please, leave, before they get back."

"No, you're obviously on something. Let's just get out of here," he insisted, trying hard to focus on her face and not the horrifying bruises on her body. They would talk about those later.

"No!" she cried. After all, even if they left, Georgina would come and hunt her down again, probably taking Chuck down with her.

"Dammit, Blair," he responded. He carefully hoisted her up, carrying her bridal style, taking a step towards the entrance.

Then the door clicked.

tbc


	18. Falling

**Title:** Finish my Sentences

**Summary:** When an unwelcome visitor returns to the Upper East, she brings along her Louis Vuitton luggage full of devious scams and schemes. This time, she's not only aimed at Serena, but the whole lot of the Constance upperclassmen. Only two people are scandalous enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can these two work through their differences when they find out that said visitor is more dangerous than she seems? Chuck/Blair; various other pairings. Set after 2.16.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own any characters.

**Rating:** PG-13; possible to have one or two M-rated chapters.

**Author's Note:** Written on vacation! Thank you so much to people who are still reading and staying with this story. Reviews last chapters were wonderful. This is up a little earlier than planned, since I'm pretty busy. Oh yeah, I. LOVE. ABBY. Hope you get my postcard (:

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

* * *

**XVIII. Falling**

"Oh, Blair," Georgina's tinkling voice sang, filling the room with her eerie soprano voice, "Blair…"

Blair braced herself; Chuck was bound to drop her and run like he had done so many times before. Her eyes widened in surprise when she realized that he had tightened his grip, pulling her firmly against his chest.

Georgina walked into the room, twirling, obviously tipsy. Her mouth dropped open in shock as she caught sight of Blair in Chuck's arms, Chuck's indignant face, and Blair's vacant expression. Carter trotted in, close on her heels, eyebrows raising as he caught sight of the scene in the room as well.

"Blair." Georgina hissed. In that one word, both Chuck and Blair could hear the hatred in her voice, as she clearly meant: _You're dead, sweetie._

Blair surprised herself, replying in a firm voice, "Georgina," giving her an even stare, watching her black eyes dart suspiciously from Blair to Chuck, then back to Blair.

"My, my look who is here to save the day," Carter cut in, laughing sarcastically as if the thought of Chuck being here as a savior was the most laughable thing he had ever heard.

"Carter Baizen," Chuck growled. And for a second it was almost funny that no one would do anything more than say the others' name menacingly. "I made you a promise, didn't I? When I met you in the back alley after school? Well, I intend to keep it."

Carter's eyes flashed uncertainly. He turned to Georgina, but she was focused on Chuck, eyes dancing.

"And we," he wrapped a hand around Georgina's wrist, "made you a promise as well. And we intend to keep that one."

"Exactly. Don't say we didn't warn you," Georgina smirked, throwing her head back, letting out a crazed cackle. It was almost as if the ground shook and the sky roared with thunder.

"Georgin. Aren't you finished?" Blair's voice suddenly regained strength, "You're fucking nobody and it's about time you admitted it to yourself."

Georgina's eyes hardened into a charcoal black, "And you, Blair Waldorf, are nothing but an imperfect, uptight bitch. You're never going to be like Serena, you're never going to be flawless; aren't you finished trying?"

It shouldn't have hurt. It was coming from Georgina Sparks, of all people. But it hurt, badly. No one had been so upfront, so blunt to confront Blair's imperfections, and when someone finally did, she had no defense except to send her a wincing scowl.

"Shut the fuck up," she heard Chuck say. Even in the dire situation, her heart leaped, just a little, at the fact that Chuck Bass still had her back.

He bent down to undo the ropes that were knotted so tightly around her ankles, pulling softly at the silk scarves, carefully threading the knot open. She sighed as a cool breeze hit her ankles, soothing the sore area.

"I wouldn't do that," Carter warned thickly, his voice obviously caught in his throat. If either of them had been paying more attention, they would have noticed the doubt crawling into his words.

"He's right," Georgina's smooth voice responded, "I wouldn't do that."

"Or what? You'll have Carter rape me? You'll hold a knife to my throat while I phone someone telling them that I'm near dead? What will you do? There is nothing you haven't already done," Blair snapped, pretending that she wasn't aware of the punishment that she had been previously warned of.

"Oh, I think you remember." The twinkle in Georgina's eye sent a shiver through Blair's spine, but she stood stock-still, watching Georgina warily.

"If you insist, we can have some more fun," Carter winked sleazily, sidling up to Blair and throwing a grimy hand around her shoulders. She inched away from his hold.

Chuck's jaw snapped at that, as he clenched his teeth together in rage. Just the sound of Carter's voice telling Blair they were going to 'have fun', made Chuck so angry that killing him no longer seemed absurd.

"Carter fucking Baizen, you lay a single hand on her, I will personally see to it that you die slowly and painfully," Chuck took a step toward Carter, his hands fisted tightly at his sides.

Georgina snickered heartily, and soon Carter joined in. Chuck hated them; he wanted to rip their throats out and break each individual finger until they shouted for mercy. He wanted them to feel the pain they had made Blair feel.

It was odd. What he had been trying to deny for so long didn't even matter anymore. It didn't matter whether he loved Blair, whether he hated Blair, all that mattered was that she was safe, that she was alive.

"Might I add," Carter started, obviously not realizing the fire he was playing with, "that Blair is one fan-_tas_-tic fuck." He threw a smirk in, amused.

Whatever nerve they had been continuously picking at for the past couple of minutes suddenly snapped, as did Chuck's temper. His eyes grew black with fury, and before he knew it, his fist had flung straight into the side of Carter's face, connecting with his bare flesh resulting in a sickening thud. He watched in surprise as Carter howled, grabbing his cheek with both of his hands and stumbling backwards.

Carter turned back to look at Georgina, but it was apparent that he was not her first priority. Her eyes seemed to be burning into Blair, as they glared at her heatedly.

"Correction: _we_ are going to be having some fun," Georgina insisted, motioning towards Carter, not breaking the eye contact with Blair. The tension between the two girls was so thick, it was near-tangible.

With that, she placed a delicately manicured hand on Carter's chest, pressing a smooth kiss on his throbbing cheek, rubbing the stubble on his chin with fake affection. Even Carter felt the insincerity of the kiss, as he slowly backed away from her.

A surge of confidence ran through Blair as she, too, placed a tiny hand on Chuck's chest, leaning up to give him a possessive kiss. But somehow the kiss hadn't landed on the cheek where she intended, but his mouth.

She'd forgotten what he tasted like: a little bit of scotch, a hint of citrus, and a dash of cigarettes. It was delicious. She'd forgotten how he kissed, she'd forgotten how amazing he was at tugging just the right amount at her lips, nipping at them with his teeth, before he finally worked her into unconsciously opening his mouth before he slid his own tongue in, caressing hers in a way that made her feel as if her mouth was filled with strawberry crème and he was licking it all out. What she had forgotten the most was how much she craved his touch, the way he made her feel warm and bubbly and delicious and completely, obliviously unaware of her surroundings.

Her knees trembled a little as she held onto him in desperate attempt to keep from falling over, and he wrapped his hands heavily around her tiny frame, making her shudder in excitement as his warm hands ran over her cool, bare back.

"And on that note," Chuck replied a little breathlessly as he came up for air, "we'll be leaving."

"Really?" Georgina asked, taking a step forward to meet Chuck, who was already headed for the door, hand gripping Blair's.

"Yes, really, Georgina. Now if you'll just let us go, this'll be so much easier for all of us." Chuck insisted, maneuvering his body around hers, but kept being cut off as she continuously stepped in front of him.

"Carter?" Georgina prompted, turning around to give him a sly smirk, "Why don't we show them what we had planned."

"Georgina… are you sure?" Carter asked in disbelief, raising his right eyebrow, "I thought you said we weren't going to –"

She ignored him, "I said, show them what we had planned."

Chuck's heart slammed against his chest, pounding harder and harder, thrumming so loudly he could hardly hear their voices, talking in hushed tones. He had a small notion of what they were talking about, but he wasn't about to stay long enough to find enough.

Blair's hands trembled behind her back. She gripped them tightly together, willing them to stay still, wringing them out every so often, as her eyes darted back and forth between Carter and Georgina. She moved towards Chuck's body, only to find that he was shaking, too.

"Chuck, I'm – " Blair started.

"I know," Chuck said, refusing to take his eyes off of the scheming duo, "Look, on the count of three, we're going to slip out the door, okay?"

Blair nodded softly in agreement.

"One. Two. Th –"

Before they had the chance to walk a single step, they heard a cling. Whipping their heads around, they were faced with Carter holding a tiny silver gun in his shaking hand.

"No. No, no, no," Chuck repeated, backing away from the gun, "Carter, look, don't do this. I promise I'll make it worth it. Do not kill us. Do you hear me?"

But Carter was obviously unconscious of Chuck's heeding voice, as he held the gun steady with his left hand. His right hand was shaking, trembling and twitching, but his left hand was determined to keep the gun held straight.

"We won't kill you, Chuck," Georgina smiled, the corners of her lips curling up deviously, "As long as you leave right now."

Chuck didn't hesitate before responding, "No."

"Well, then," Georgina reached a hand up to caress Carter's neck, "I guess Carter'll have to kill the both of you. We planned on just her," she scowled in Blair's direction, "but if you're so determined…"

"Don't, Georgina. Please, leave her alone. Don't," Chuck could sway Carter, but there was no way he could change Georgina's mind, "Let her leave. I'll stay."

"No! Chuck, they want me. You leave, go. I told you to leave!" Blair was near hysterics as she pulled her hand out from Chuck's, "Leave."

She couldn't bear it. If they killed Chuck, she might as well be dead. It was too bad she realized how much she needed him when it was too late. She was now convinced that God had put her on Earth just to keep him alive. And who was she to refuse God?

"Blair, you're crazy if you think I'm leaving. Fucking crazy. Get the hell out of here, just go," Chuck insisted, urging her towards the door, shoving her.

"Well, without further ado," Georgina cackled, "Carter?"

Blair stared straight into Carter's eyes. She was as good as dead, but if she could just – before it happened – convince Carter that he was wrong, then it would be enough.

Uncertainty was flashing in Carter's eyes, and her dormant friend suddenly reappeared. Carter was there, he was in there, trying to crawl out, trying to escape Georgina's wrath. But as he reached the surface, he was forced back down, back into the treacherous climb upwards yet again. It seemed, though, that this time, the real Carter was ready to emerge, ready to break away.

"Carter, please," Blair begged, watching his eyes.

And he sighed, lowering his arm, "I can't do it." Blair's heart jumped with ecstasy; it felt as if a whole weight had been lifted off her shoulders as she turned to Chuck with a satisfied, very Blair-esque grin.

"You are worthless," Georgina scolded harshly, kicking Carter away and pulling the gun away from his sweaty grip.

"Georgina…" Chuck warned.

But it was too late. She fired the gun victoriously, a cruel smile playing on her lips.

If Chuck were to come back to this moment in time, he would never picture the events clearly enough to re-tell what happened that fateful day. But what he did know was that as the gun was fired, speeding towards Blair, an unexplainable protectiveness swept over him.

It wasn't exactly as if it happened in slow motion, but more that he had all the time in the world to save her, because that was what he was sent to Earth to do. And he would never be able to explain how, in that split second, he threw his body in between the bullet and Blair, feeling the tiny pellet swirl into his upper chest, feeling like Hell was beckoning him; feeling satisfaction, accomplishment, and regret sweep over him. In that split second, his life was no longer useless.

Blair couldn't feel any more useless as she watched his body crumple lifelessly to the ground.

tbc


	19. Forgiveness

**Title:** Finish my Sentences

**Summary:** When an unwelcome visitor returns to the Upper East, she brings along her Louis Vuitton luggage full of devious scams and schemes. This time, she's not only aimed at Serena, but the whole lot of the Constance upperclassmen. Only two people are scandalous enough to play her game. Separately, they have no chance against her. But can these two work through their differences when they find out that said visitor is more dangerous than she seems? Chuck/Blair; various other pairings. Set after 2.16.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own any characters.

**Rating:** PG-13; possible to have one or two M-rated chapters.

**Author's Note:** Well, this is going to be a super long author's note because you guys are seriously amazing. I'm so sorry this update has taken so long, my life is consuming me right now - not in a bad way, but I've just got SO MUCH going on. You can ask Abby if you don't believe me (: Anyway, thanks for the 20 reviews last chapter!! I can't believe it, you guys are...have I said amazing enough yet? Anyway, I promise to get my next update out faster, and I hope you guys enjoy this one! (Could I sound any cornier or use any more exclamation marks, seriously?)

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

* * *

**XIX. Forgiveness**

His eyes squinted in anticipation for a fluorescent light to blind his eyes. But instead, when he finally cracked a bleary eye open, all that greeted him was darkness. For a split second he panicked - could it have been possible that he was back in the Palace? That the rescue was just his imagination?

Until he heard a quiet coughing coming from a dimly lit corner of the room. Chuck raised his head a mere centimeter, just enough to lever himself to a position where he could see what the noise was coming from. A figure was sitting on a uncomfortably cushioned chair, holding a reading light to his book, frantically flipping through the pages.

Chuck let out a guttural hack from deep within his throat. The mysterious person jumped at the sudden noise, throwing the book light and novel onto the floor. They clattered to the ground as the man tried to recollect himself.

"Chuck. You scared me."

Chuck sat back a little further, wincing at the pain that surged through his upper chest. The light, however, had landed closer to him, and he could now clearly see the IVs and other various medical instruments hooked up to him.

"Who are you?" Chuck asked bluntly, not bothering with his manners.

"It's me, Carter."

Chuck's pulse quickened, "Where the hell is this? Why are you here?"

Carter stepped calmly toward the doorway and flicked the light on. Light flooded into the room; Chuck didn't cringe at the light. Somehow the burning of his eyes felt welcoming.

Carter stood before him, distressed and disheveled, eyeing him wearily. Chuck's heart rate slowed; it didn't seem as if Carter had any negative intentions. He was merely standing there, scratching an arm, watching Chuck carefully.

"Do you need something?" Chuck's abrasiveness, though minutes ago had seemed fitting, suddenly felt rude and ignorant. Which was odd, because although Carter didn't seem to mean any harm, he still had committed several inexcusable acts.

"Look, I just wanted to say something to you." Carter ran a hand down his scruffy, unshaven face, leaning back against the wall.

When he didn't speak for a good minute, Chuck broke in, "Was that it?"

Carter, who had been staring at Chuck intently for the previous minute, now fixed his glance elsewhere, seeming to be avoiding Chuck's gaze.

"I've done a hell of a lot of bad things in life, I've made terrible decisions, but I think this was just unforgivable."

Chuck didn't respond. What was there to add, anyway? Carter had pretty much nailed the extent of things head-on.

"I just… I think I got carried away by the thought that I could have control. All my life I've been wanting to take control. Even when I had forgone my family for a lifestyle of excitement, it still just wasn't enough. So when Georgina offered it to me…" he trailed off, kicking a leather shoe hard into the swirling marble, leaving a ebony black skid mark.

"That doesn't give you a right," Chuck hardly recognized his voice. Despite his fury, he'd maintained a cold, icy tone. His words seemed to be laced with hatred. "You said it yourself. Unforgivable things; that's exactly what they are."

"And I realized it! Isn't that something?" Carter's voice had a pleading edge to it.

"You realized it. What do you want me to do about it? Award you? It doesn't make up for what you did to Blair. It doesn't forgive what you did to me." As if to make his point, Chuck traced a finger on his wounded chest, grimacing at the pain of the stitches under his nail.

But he didn't let Carter continue. He had other things on his mind - "Blair! Where is she?"

"She's fine. They're talking to her - a psychiatrist, a physical therapist - they're all there. She's going to be okay, Chuck."

Chuck wanted to believe him, but somehow, coming from Carter's mouth, it seemed so absurd and deceitful. "I need to talk to her."

"They aren't letting anyone speak to her right now. You can call a nurse…" Carter leaned over his bed and pressed into a small button.

"Chuck, I need you to understand why I did it. I need you to stop being hypocritical and for once try to realize that you would have done the same thing!" the words shook. "It wasn't just Georgina, either. It wasn't the money - yes, she was paying me. It was the lifestyle! The power, the pride… I craved it. Power makes you crazy, I've learned, but I can't change anything I've done."

Chuck looked away. The words spewing out of his mouth were filth. He refused to listen to the garbage pouring from the imbecile.

"I've done everything wrong, and you have a right to be angry. But please try and understand where I'm coming from!" Carter no longer tried to keep his voice to a minimal level. Instead, he let himself scream the words, as if saying them louder somehow made his theory correct.

Yet again, Chuck gave him a hard, blank stare.

Defeated, Carter collapsed into the lumpy cushion of the couch. He dropped his head into his hands, and finally it came out as a whisper, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

"Honestly, I'm trying to make up excuses. And you're right - I can't do that anymore. I don't even deserve to - "

A light rapping on the door interrupted Carter's quiet rant, "Hello? I got a call from this room?"

"Yes, Chuck Bass called," Carter announced, walking towards the door after meticulously picking his items up.

"No, wait," Chuck stopped the nurse, "Can you give us just a minute?"

The nurse complied with a swift nod.

Carter raised an eyebrow, "Chuck, I'm going to go. You can save your breath."

"No, Carter. If you weren't so damn busy trying to tell yourself you were right, I'd have had a chance to talk already."

Carter stuttered, as if to reply, but Chuck continued, "I never thanked you. I never told you how grateful I was for you not shooting Blair. And I do accept your apology. However, I cannot forgive you. I simply can't."

Carter nodded - one, sharp flick of his neck - then quickly exited the room. Chuck sighed in relief, finally relishing the cool air of the air conditioning drying his sweating forehead.

**…**

The questions were making her sick. Not a queasy, sick-to-the-stomach sick, but sick in a mental institution, psychopaths-in-a-white-room kind of sick. The way the doctors talked - in hushed tones, of course - about her, she just wanted to throw a chair. "She's been traumatized" one doctor said. "Physically and emotionally abused" the other added. But no matter what words they were using to describe the weeks she had spent in pure hell; in which she had been raped, assaulted, and almost killed, they never seemed to address her.

She wanted to scream at them. She wanted to stand up in her uncomfortable white hospital gown and yell, "I'm standing right fucking here. Can you please act like I'm in the room?"

The psychiatrist was the only one that paid any attention to her. But even then, it was only to bombard her with questions that she wanted nothing more than to avoid.

So she escaped. It had taken a lot of brain-work and scheming, but she had gotten past the idiots and made her way into the marble-tiled hallways, wandering about, wondering if she had an ulterior motive for sneaking out.

And she did. She was finished with denial - after all, wasn't that what got her into the situation in the first place? She needed to see Chuck.

Walking cautiously down the walkway, carefully watching her step to ensure complete silence, she tiptoed to a room labeled: Patient 330, Charles Bass.

She didn't bother knocking.

And it wouldn't have mattered because he was sitting upright, staring at her as she walked into the room.

"They wouldn't let me see you," Chuck blurted, a rare occasion for a man who usually said exactly what he wanted when he wanted to.

"I snuck out," she replied.

The tension was tangible as they stared at each other. Was there really anything else that need to be said? As her eyes swallowed his - even at ten feet away from each other - she felt the fire burn at the connection.

"Was it worth it?" his voice rasped.

She hesitated, an involuntarily moved a step closer to him, "I think so."

He was staring at her. Not uncomfortably, but a definite stare. He wasn't leering, he wasn't smirking, but merely watching her as if he'd never seen anything like her before. The intensity in his eyes was almost scary.

They didn't speak for a while, just drank the image of each other in.

"I wonder…" she didn't finish.

He didn't bother to ask her the end of the sentence. They both knew that there was nothing to say, and she was doing nothing but filling the emptiness.

She took another three steps forward until she was directly in front of him. Her heartbeat quickened, something she still had to get used to. Settling into the chair that conveniently sat beside his bed, she rested her elbow on the arm of the seat.

"Do you think…" it was his turn to attempt conversation.

She let out a small grin; the joke was now blatantly obvious.

Then, instead of waiting for her next half-question, he leaned forward until their lips were mere inches apart.

"Here's a full sentence: Now is it worth it?" the smirk curled onto his lips as he let their lips slowly come into contact.

A light knock cut them short.

Blair jumped away from the bed, and Chuck leaned back, running a hand through his hair in attempt to seem masculine.

A nurse walked in, wearing a knowing smile, before announcing: "You have a letter."

Both their bloods turned to ice and their hearts ceased to beat. They'd heard those words one too many times in their life.

Chuck took the envelope into his shaking hands, slowly peeling the flap open, with Blair holding her breath as the contents came into view.

tbc


End file.
